Martin and Louisa - a Reckoning Reimagined
by nature of things
Summary: This is Martin's story after Louisa left Port Wenn
1. Chapter 1

As usual, Doc Martin is owned by Buffalo Pictures. I have no association with them, just enjoy playing with the characters. When I watch an episode, sometimes I wonder "what if" and, if I'm lucky, the story comes. I know the show had to keep the will they/won't they going, but I'm glad it's over and that they're happy together. I just shortened the process and changed their way of getting there. I started this tale on the afternoon that they called off their wedding – first his story and then hers. I published it first two parts but rewrote it over and over again trying to get happy with it and now I'm satisfied (never happy with a story) with it. It's long so I will publish in chapters. Sorry I published it too early at first. (As I did Martin and Chris) Lesson learned. I promise it's finished. There's no sex in the story because I concentrated on their relationship. PS. I stopped reading other FF stories while I wrote this because I don't want to subconsciously copy one. If mine sounds similar to others, it's certainly unintentional. My imagination is my own.

Hope you don't mind a repeat. Enjoy!

 **Martin's Story**

Martin sat in the lounge knowing that Louisa was walking away from him. He pictured her, not in that lovely wedding dress, but in jeans and jumper, pony tail swinging. They had made the right decision. They wouldn't make each other happy.

He sat without moving all night. He couldn't concentrate, not one lucid thought.

The sound of that awful gang of giggling girls in front of the surgery the next morning snapped him out of his reverie. Now what to do? He could work on a clock or read the latest journals. No, neither appealed. He'd never faced this situation before. "It will pass. We made the right decision. We both agreed to it." He found himself just standing, maybe at his desk with pen in hand or in the kitchen in the middle of making espresso. What was Louisa doing now? He would shake his shoulders, start the task again and, in a few minutes, go into another reverie. He counted on seeing her around the village every day. That was as important to him as oxygen. He would walk to the Fish Market and see her. Then he would be back to normal.

Aunt Joan came through the back door with her usual, "It's only me. Thought you might be hungry. Fresh eggs and a loaf of fresh bread. Come on, let's start." Then she saw his face. "Marty! I thought…Why? You both said…" He looked so weary and sad. Her heart broke for him but the Ellingham curse kept her from showing it. "Now Marty, you know you made the right decision. Chalk and cheese. Let's just eat some breakfast together and you'll be fine."

She looked for the bread knife and he said, "Aunty Joan, stop. I'm not hungry and really don't feel like company." He walked to the door and held it open for her.

"Alright Marty. I've got things to do anyway." She left and would worry about him for the rest of the day and he was left alone with his thoughts again. He stood on the terrace, empty coffee cup in hand, watching for Louisa.

Tomorrow was Monday. Good. Work was always his tonic. A long walk along the cliffs, a light dinner and bed. He would be back to normal tomorrow.

Unfortunately, his plan didn't work. The next day, without seeing him or telling him, Louisa moved out of the village. He had to put forth maximum effort just to concentrate, to do something simple like take someone's blood pressure. It was hard with no appetite no sleep, no rest. Never patient, now he was a terror and his sarcasm cut to the bone for the mildest offense. Even Miss Sawls, with whom he had always been courteous and gentle, felt the lash of his tongue.

Louisa was constantly on his mind. Everywhere he went reminded him of her. And his nights! Dreams of how she responded to his touch, how her skin felt under his hands, how her mouth and hands inflamed his senses. Was she alright, happy? Where was his vaunted self-control? His life was unbearable. An endless supply of runny noses, hernias, rashes, bunions, hemorrhoids, 'the runs', and worse didn't help his mood.

Penhale, looking anxious, followed him around and made typically inane comments just trying to spark a conversation. He had been watching Doc and hated to see him unhappy. Ill-temper he was used to but he felt the Doc was really unhappy now. Silly he could be but nobody could accuse him of being uncaring – not PC Penhale!

Chris was accustomed to fielding complaints about Martin but they seemed to be rapidly increasing in number.

Pauline was worried about her boss. Yes, he was rude and impatient but they worked well together and he had grown to trust her. Now she couldn't do anything right. When he dismissed Miss Sawls so rudely, she knew it was time to do something. Chris Parsons, Martin's boss, was a frequent visitor to the surgery and always friendly with her. She called him for help.

"Dr. Parsons? I hope you remember me. I'm Pauline Treywick, Dr. Ellingham's Practice Manager."

Warning bells went off in his head but he asked politely, "Of course, I remember you, Pauline. How are things in Port Wenn? All well, I hope."

Her voice worried, she said, "Please believe me when I tell you that I'm not tattling or talkin' out of turn but the Doc's not actin' right. Since he called it off with Louiser, he's just been gettin' ruder and more miserable by the day. I'm afraid he's gonna get in trouble. Can you come to see him? Maybe help him somehow?"

He was shocked and dismayed by this news. Martin would be the very devil to help. Always prided himself on being self-reliant. Scoffed at love and personal relationships. Arrogant sod! Now his friend was in trouble. "Of course, I'll come. As a matter of fact, I'll make an excuse to come tomorrow."

"Please don't tell him I called. He'd be so mad at me!" She begged.

"No, I won't tell him. Thank you for telling me this, Pauline. You did the right thing." As soon as he hung up, the phone rang again and once more, it was a complaint about Martin. He needed a plan.

Martin rose to face another miserable day spent in the village of the damned. God! Was this it? His patients were idiots, incapable of following the simplest instructions. If he allowed himself to have faults or weaknesses, he would know that he needed help coping with his myriad of problems and ask someone for it. But no, he was a force unto himself, clever, skilled, learned – striding through the world untouched by human failings. He would battle through. Loneliness and sadness were for the weak.

Chris called early before the surgery opened and told Martin that they should have lunch together.

"It's very inconvenient, Chris. Can't you just tell me now about who complained and not waste my time?" Martin said shortly.

Chris was ready for resistance and answered, "Too bad and no, I won't. Meet you at Large Restaurant at 12:30." And hung up.

Chris saw Martin striding through the village with his famous scowl in place, ignoring several of the villagers who made rude gestures or called him tosser as he passed. He was noticeably thinner and weary looking.

His greeting was a terse, "Well, who's the problem this time?" before he even sat down.

Chris knew Martin perhaps better than anyone and, therefore, knew to cut to the chase. No polite small talk allowed. "You are. Martin, your behavior has gone beyond what I can accept. It can be very well described as unprofessional. You need help and must allow me to give it. I don't say this lightly. I'm speaking as your superior now and mean what I say."

As he spoke, Martin's expression went from angry and arrogant to confused and embarrassed. Unprofessional! A lot of nasty things had been said about him and he'd been called a variety of names but no one had ever said that about him before. And for Chris to say it – his oldest and most trusted friend - cut to the quick. Chris knew that if he hadn't been so vulnerable, he would have answered back but was too emotionally spent to try.

"I'm glad I got your attention. I don't know what happened between you and Louisa but it's affecting your work, Martin. No, let me finish. I've been thinking a lot about this. _I said, let me finish_! Ever since we've known each other, you've defined yourself by your knowledge and skills as a doctor – as the best vascular surgeon in the UK. Europe even! The strong, self-assured, haughty Mr. Martin Ellingham. Then overnight you developed hemophobia and lost at least half your identity. You've coped and done extremely well here and are the best gp this area will ever have. Then you fell in love for the first time in your life and didn't know how to handle it. Now, you've lost her. Those are big pieces of yourself, my friend. How about I help you reclaim at least part of it?"

Martin's answer was unexpected but welcome. He hadn't been aware that this plan was forming in his mind but here it was. "You're not the only one who's been thinking. I plan on returning to surgery but must cure my blood phobia first. For that, I'll need some help.

Chris had to clamp down on his excitement. Martin would shut down it he went too fast. "I've been quietly checking around and found a few therapists who I thought could help you cope with all this. One of them specializes in phobias – especially ones like yours. He has a top-drawer education and an excellent reputation. I met him and, Martin, I'm sure you can work with him. Would you give it a try?"

Martin nodded yes and took the business card Chris handed him. It was a start. He even said thank you.

Pauline nervously watched her boss that afternoon and was relieved that he seemed less unhappy and irritable. He didn't snap at any patients and actually called Miss Sawls to apologize for his behavior. Thank god!

For the first time since Louisa left, he prepared and ate a nutritious dinner and worked on a clock. He had a plan. He was going to return to London where she was. He had something besides a desire to return to surgery now to motivate him - Louisa. That night he slept undisturbed.

His first visit with the therapist, Dr. Sam Hewitt, didn't start out very well. His answers to the questions were, to say the least, unhelpful. What did Louisa say about him – monosyllabic and rude? But what about well-meaning? Gawd! He was thinking of her even here!

After half an hour of metaphorically 'pulling teeth' and getting nowhere, Dr. Hewitt told him, "I'm sure I don't have to tell you that, for me to help you, you have to communicate with me. I can see that you're a very private person and it will be difficult for you. Having said that, I don't want to see you again until you're ready to at least try to talk to me. You're wasting my valuable time and you would say the same thing to a patient who wouldn't allow you to help him. Good day." And showed him the door.

Martin was stunned. No one in his professional life other than Chris had ever had the temerity to speak to him like that. And he had the leeway of being an old friend for Martin to allow his remarks. He stomped out of the building, across the street and to the parking garage to his car. By the time he got there, he realized how foolish his behavior was. He knew he had to change to be with Louisa. He had to cure his phobia to return to surgery and London. Arse! He called Dr. Hewitt from the garage, "I'm ready to talk Dr. Hewitt. When can you see me again?"

Relieved that his gamble paid off, the therapist replied, "We still have time on the clock so right now if you like. And call me Sam."

That started months of grueling therapy. Dr. Hewitt persuaded Martin talk about his childhood, his parents and how they treated and punished him, the school where he was mercilessly teased and bullied about his appearance and bedwetting and, finally, about his phobia and how it started. He brought out the awful loneliness Martin suffered from as a sad, abused little boy, how terrified he had been of his parents and the fierce buried anger he felt because of it. There were tears and, due to Sam's skill, he felt no shame or embarrassment. Frequently he left the sessions exhausted.

Dr. Hewitt was normally non-committal with his patient's histories but Martin's was so wretched that he couldn't help but express sympathy. This man overcame so much and deserved some praise. "Martin, understand this, you were damaged by your parents who, frankly, should have been arrested for child abuse, and by the way that god-awful school let you be bullied but you've risen above all of it. You're an intelligent, caring and successful – don't shake your head at me. This is my honest diagnosis - physician who unfailingly does his best for every patient in his care. And I'm quite sure you don't like them all. Besides help with your phobia, you've come to me for help with how you deal with people. Now, tell me, how do you _want_ to deal with them?"

Martin rose and looked out the window, "I care about a woman. I want to make her happy. I want her to want to be happy with me. I want to learn how to deal better with her."

"That's it? Don't you want to be happy yourself?" Dr. Hewitt asked curiously.

"She makes me happy. So, I want to make her happy. To make her happy, I have to be more tolerant in my dealings with other people. Doesn't that make sense?" Martin asked testily.

"Yes, it does. You've been so closed off from people for so long that you'll have work harder than most. I can give some suggestions how to make her happy but the effort comes from you. Think of her wishes instead of your own sometimes. Take her out to dinner as a surprise. Does she like flowers? Yes? Then buy her some occasionally. If you want her physically, then show it. Things like that. You don't have to be schmaltzy or a lapdog, just be considerate." He studied Martin's face and said with a grin, "I can tell what you're thinking. Yes, I'm married and have been for forty years so can speak from experience."

Martin sighed as he said, "I've almost called her countless times but don't know what to say. I'm afraid I'll make things worse. I miss her."

"That must be tough but now let's return to work on your phobia. I think we're making progress on that."

Martin regularly did the breathing and meditation exercises that Sam had recommended even though he had doubted how effective they would be.

When Sam saw his skeptical expression, he laughed and said, "Martin, if I didn't think they would benefit you, I wouldn't recommend them. Right? So, do them."

He also gave Martin cd's of different surgeries to watch as aids to his cure.

Martin talked extensively about his last successful day in surgery. Dr. Hewitt had developed a theory and carefully led him in that direction. "My patient was just an ordinary patient, a routine operation that I'd done hundreds of times before, until I went to explain the procedure to her and her family. They obviously cared for each other very much. They didn't want to let her go, were clinging to her and, instead of worrying about herself, she comforted them! That amazed me."

This is good thought Dr. Hewitt. "Why do you think it amazed you?"

"She was so strong. And so…sweet? Is that the word? To them and to me. It just hit me what a nice woman she was." Answered Martin in a reflective voice.

"Do you think she was a good mother? A gentle, caring mother?" asked Dr. Hewitt.

Martin sighed and answered, "Is it possible that I unknowingly fantasied about her being my mother? Is that why I couldn't operate on her?"

"Riddle me this, doctors can't treat their relatives, correct? Against some rule, isn't it?" asked Dr. Hewitt.

"Yes. Emotions can get in the way and the doctor's judgement impaired." Martin realized where this was going now.

"So, you being unable to operate on a woman you saw as a mother figure meant…" Dr. Hewitt let his voice trail off.

"Sub-consciously, I saw her as my mother, as the mother I wished I had." Martin answered in a low voice. "It makes sense that I couldn't do it. Now, we've got to figure out why I can't stand the sight of blood."

Dr. Hewitt closed his folder to signal that their session was over and said, "Easy Peasy. See you for your next appointment and don't forget to do your exercises and to watch those cds. By then, I'll have an answer from the hospital about granting us clearance to observe some surgeries from the balcony. That will give us an idea as to how you're coming along."

While all this was happening, five and a half months passed. Sometimes Martin felt encouraged and other times like everything he had done was just wasted effort. But each session led to better results. Dr. Hewitt was very satisfied with the progress they made. The day he could watch an operation without leaving to heave his guts out, he went home and cooked an exotic meal of Raw Mango Fish Curry and couscous to celebrate.

On one of the visits to the hospital, Martin had talked over his reaction to the surgery they had just observed with Sam and said goodbye, turned to leave and there stood Edith Montgomery. "Ellingham! I heard you were practicing somewhere in this area."

He remembered her very well and replied courteously, "Edith. What are you doing here?"

"I'm doing some research and they let me have space to do it in return for taking some OBGYN duties. We must get together sometime."

He just nodded and left. He remembered how they parted and how fortunate it was for him. Leave well enough alone.

To his surprise, she showed up at the surgery two days later and pushed ahead of the next patient assuring Pauline that he would see her. Her excuse for coming was she wanted his help writing a report on her research.

She offered a diversion and he accepted at once. She had heard about his phobia, expressed sympathy and offered help.

"How can you help? You've no idea how a phobia can affect someone." He was skeptical.

"For one thing, I can bring you bags of blood. Slightly out of date so they're useless. How would that do?" She asked perkily.

He hated perky but had to acknowledge that it was a good idea. He had been buying the bloodiest beef liver the butcher offered but this was better. "Yes, I'm free Thursday if you can come that evening. Bring some then."

His help on writing her report was invaluable. He could dissect a paper with a surgeon's precision, taking out and rewriting weak sections and spotting errors with an eagle eye. If she just wasn't so annoyingly perky! They worked on the report for two weeks and then he was to help her write a speech. He enjoyed the exercise to the fullest.

They were taking a dinner break when Louisa knocked on the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Louisa**

Louisa walked down Roscarrock Hill away from the love of her life. They had both decided to call the wedding off, that they wouldn't be happy together. Shock is a funny thing. She was completely calm and rational, just like she had canceled a shopping trip or drinks with friends. One thing was for certain, she couldn't stay in the village and face all the gossip and risk seeing him around every corner. She just couldn't! Her only option was to leave and do it quickly.

She contacted an estate agent about renting her cottage. He had a man ready to rent so it was easily done but the potential renter insisted that it be fully furnished and have a two- year lease. What to do with the wedding dress? The only person she trusted to care for it and not gossip about it was Joan.

"Oh, my dear! I'm sorry it didn't work out. We both know that Martin loves you and is a good man but it's not enough is it? I told Martin ages ago that you were chalk and cheese. I hate it but yes, I think moving away, at least temporarily, is the right thing for you to do. Is there anything I can do to help?"

And Louisa left the carefully wrapped wedding dress with Joan.

She contacted her horrid friend, Holly, and asked if that bedroom was still available and if she knew of a teaching position. She quickly found out that promises made weren't always exactly promises kept. The bedroom was available for just two weeks – redecorating you know. "I don't blame you for dumping him. Should never have gotten involved with someone as _boorish_ as he is. We have to work on your taste in men, don't we?" and she tittered. Louisa hated tittering. It was right up there with someone picking their nose in public. "No, we don't have any openings at my school. _Tragic_! You'd fit in _perfectly_! But don't you worry, Louisa. I'll help you find a place to live and something at another school. So sorry but have to run! Board meeting tonight."

She packed her personal belongings and caught the train that afternoon.

Holly's extra bedroom was tiny and used mostly for storage and had a small, lumpy trundle bed. Louisa's clothes stayed in her suitcases because the closet and dresser were full of Holly's excess clothing. She shrugged her shoulders in acceptance and started looking for somewhere to live the next day. Everything suitable was so expensive! She had limited savings so had to be careful with every pound.

Holly found a position for her at a _very_ good school. "My dear, it's _fabulous_! Such a reputation for excellence! So _lucky_ that they have an opening. Of course, you'll start out in a low position and salary but, don't worry. It won't take long for them to positively _gag_ over what a _treasure_ they have. So sorry to leave again. I have a date with a lawyer. Very well off and _so_ charming! Ta!" Unfortunately for Louisa, the lawyer was a week-end guest. More unfortunate was his and Holly's complete lack of modesty. The next morning, Louisa went to the small kitchen to make coffee at the same time they exited Holly's bedroom – him wearing only a pair of black satin thong underpants with a huge bulge in front and her wearing a see-through teddy and bikini knickers. Louisa's first impression was, "Crikey! He even has hair on his bum!" Her second was that Holly had a boob job.

He casually introduced himself, "Good morning. You must be Louisa. Holly said you ran away from some little backwater village because you were dumped by a regular arse. Tough luck. I'm Harry Rears." And he extended his hand to a shocked Louisa.

Holly tittered again and hip bumped him in warning, "No, Harry. I would _never_ say such a thing about Louisa. You misunderstood. She _dumped him_! And the village is _charming,_ quite charming. By the way, Harry is spending the weekend and we're having a few guests over. Give your social life a boost. Exciting, huh?"

Wow! Had Holly always been such a bitch? Louisa forced herself to smile, pour a cup of coffee, excuse herself and calmly walk out on the small terrace. It was definitely time to find a place to live. Harry Rears. Never had a man been more appropriately named.

The guests at the party were nice enough but, after the fifth time, the comments on her country accent were hard to take as were the questions about her quaint little village. And what did you do there? Holly had been gossiping. She was the only one without a companion and didn't know the people or films they talked about. She excused herself early and went to her bedroom. So much for giving her social a life a boost.

One of the places she had looked at was a bed sit within walking distance to the school. Not ideal but it suited her budget, even allowed for some savings, so she moved in the next day and started work the day after that. So far so good. She had been too busy to even think of Martin. Things were going well. Except that she was late. Stress. Must be stress. Nothing to worry about.

She was pleased with the welcome she received from the Head Teacher and her qualifications were effusively praised. It took her a couple of months to settle in and familiarize herself with the new routine. Then, she began realizing that the school cared more for maintaining their enrollment of children from wealthy parents and posh reputation than they did for providing a good education.

She took extra work home to help her keep busy and made frequent trips to the library. When that wasn't enough, she walked for miles just to tire herself out. It seemed impossible that she thought of Martin so much. He was always just at the edge of her mind. If she could just fall out of love! So much easier that way. She almost called him countless times but always found an excuse not to do it. What would she say anyway? Why didn't he call her?

She was still late and, some mornings, nauseous. Oh god! Not pregnant! Thirty-nine years old, working at a job so far from home, not married. The doctor confirmed it – two months pregnant. Alone in London, in a bedsit and having to share kitchen and bathroom privileges. How could she deal with a baby in those circumstances? She desperately wanted to talk to Martin but couldn't think how to tell him. The thought of an abortion flitted through her mind and was immediately dismissed. No. She and the man she loved with all her heart had created this baby out of that love. Time went by and she was beginning to show. The effusive praise and introductions by the Head Teacher to the wealthy parents stopped.

Time ground by and her life got worse and worse. When she resisted the 'suggestion' to pad certain grades for certain children there was a distinct chill in the air. "Your friend, Holly, Head of such an _excellent_ school, assured us that you were a forward thinking, modern teacher who would fit in well with our philosophy of turning out well-rounded, cultured students." The Head Teacher told her a little too sweetly.

Louisa's response was just as sweet, "Yes, they should be both well-rounded and cultured but also taught how to do basic math and to read to grade level, wouldn't you agree?"

From then on, she was given the cold shoulder by the Head Teacher and most of the other teachers. She made friends with two of them who were also out of favor for questioning the low standards. The three of them tried to make changes in their classes but were soon reported by the most spoilt children for 'being too hard and mean'. The parents soon joined in and Louisa had frank discussions with them about skills that their children were supposed to learn but, unfortunately, hadn't.

"We don't understand. We were told that this school had the highest standards." They exclaimed.

"If you like this school and think your child is happy here, then go to the Head Teacher and the board of governors and request that higher standards be instituted. There are some excellent teachers here who are very capable of giving your children the best education available. You just have to demand it." Louisa encouraged them.

"No, you must be wrong. It costs a fortune to send a child here. And the Head Teacher assures us that our child is one of her top students. No, we're happy with things the way they are." Said most of the parents. The rest pulled their children out and transferred them to Holly's school. What a waste of time!

As the saying goes, it hit the fan. The Head Teacher and the teachers who were happy to do the minimum required told the governors that Louisa and the other two teachers were trouble makers and were undermining the reputation of their school. The parents who loved to brag to their acquaintances that their children attended such a posh school made snide comments about Louisa being pregnant and that it was a bad influence on their children. She was asked to resign and the other two teachers were given the choice of accepting and teaching to their 'very high standards' or resigning. They apologized and chose the second option.

Holly was chagrined and embarrassed. She felt that Louisa's behavior reflected badly on her. Louisa told her about the low standards and how the teachers were 'encouraged' to pad grades but Holly was unmoved. "Well, you know the saying about taking the girl out of the country. So sorry it didn't work out but you'll be happier in that backwards village. Goodbye, darling." And that was that.

Louisa gladly made arrangements to go back to Port Wenn. She had been miserable away from Martin. What a fool she'd been! But wait, he wanted to call off their wedding, too. Then, the icing on the cake – she was pregnant. Surely, he would be happy about it. Or at least not angry about it. He still loved her in spite of calling off the wedding. She wouldn't call him, just turn up and surprise him. Then they would talk and come to terms with their love for each other and their child. She was floating in her dreams all the way to Port Wenn.

Her return didn't go at all as she had dreamed it would. She showed up at Martin's door as planned, suitcase in hand, sure that he would be happy to see her. He would invite her in for a cup of tea and a talk. Instead, in order, he said, 'Louisa, you're back', 'You're pregnant' and 'You know it's too late for an abortion'. It felt like a blow to the chest. She was so hurt by that last remark that she immediately lied and said that she just dropped by to let him know before the village found out. Then she saw a thin, attractive woman about Martin's age with improbable red hair sitting in the kitchen with a plate of food in front of her. He had invited her for dinner. She couldn't get away fast enough. She had been silly to hope. Of course, he followed her to the terrace and offered marriage but just because of the baby. "No, I don't want to get married. I'll be fine on my own. Not your problem." She said as she hurried down the hill. If he had cared at all, he would have excused himself from his company and invited her in and not said that hurtful thing. He didn't even ask where she was staying! She made her way to The Crab and Lobster to pay rent that she could ill afford. Her house was rented out with an unbreakable lease so she had no choice. Unfortunately, the income from the rent went to pay her mortgage so no joy there. Some home coming.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Reckoning**

During the following weeks, they sniped at each other. She felt that he was constantly criticizing her and she said hateful things and pushed him away, convincing herself that it was for the best – hard hearted, bossy arse! He was a stick of rock alright! Hard as stone thru and thru! He obviously had no interest in their baby. That was fine. Not his problem. But her heart wept a little with each confrontation between them. Still, didn't he realize that she _had_ to work? He insisted that it only be three days a week which was impossible. When the position of Head Teacher became available due to the illness of the person (Mr. Strange) who had held it since she left to go to London, he tried to convince the board that, because she was pregnant, she was unable to resume the post.

Once again, she showed up at his door, but this time in a flaming temper. Before he could invite her in, she shouted at him, "Martin, how dare you tell the governors that I shouldn't take the post as Head Mistress! you have no right to tell me how to live my life!"

The redhead was standing behind him and broke in before he could answer saying, "I think I'll leave and stay out of this fray. You shouldn't get too excited you know. It's not good for the baby. I'll see you Friday." And pecked him on the cheek.

Ignoring that unexpected kiss, and with his ferocious scowl in place, he said, "You do _not_ need to leave. Miss Glasson hasn't been invited in."

She just shook her head with a little secret smile of satisfaction and left.

"I don't want to be invited in, Mar-tin." She started to say, but he interrupted her with, "Thank you for that display of ill manners, Louisa. You've successfully ruined my evening."

Louisa had sworn to herself that she wouldn't shed another tear over him. She managed to say, "What I do with my life and how I do it is none of your bus…" And her emotions got the better of her and the tears flowed.

Clueless and flustered Martin, instead of comforting her, asked with honest bewilderment, "Why are you crying?" All his sessions, all the advice that Sam had given him were forgotten.

Humiliated, she choked out, "Oh, shut up!" and he watched her walk away from him again. She just hoped he wasn't watching her because she was sure that she was waddling.

Her tears cut through him. This was an example of the situations he wanted to learn to handle better. What should he have done? If he tried to embrace her, she looked angry enough to slap him. Sam could help with this dilemma. He spent another sleepless night seeing her crying every time he shut his eyes.

She relieved her feelings by saying that he was unbearable! Insufferable! If that would only stop her from having erotic dreams about the last night they spent together. Another sleepless night! She put a hormonal pregnancy as the reason.

On top of everything else he was dealing with, he had to endure criticism from Aunty Joan which he felt to be very unjustified. He repeatedly told her that Louisa didn't want him involved in any way. She invariably said, "Don't be ridiculous! You're the father! You have responsibilities!" That certainly didn't make it any easier. And Pauline made her little comments, too. "Just because she's strong don't mean she don't need your help. That's your baby! Don't you care at all?" Yes, he was the father and yes, it was exciting. But also terrifying. He didn't know anything about babies. What if he turned out to be like his father? Why hadn't she told him when she first found out? Didn't she realize that he was truly concerned for hers and the baby's welfare? Why was she always so angry? She wouldn't even allow him to be her doctor. She was just being unreasonable and stubborn. Feminist point making! But the memory of his words the night of their latest fight made him squirm. She upset and angered him with her words and rejection of him but he shouldn't have said what he did. He hurt her after promising that he never would. And round and round his thoughts went, always ending with "Why didn't she tell me that I'm going to be a father?"

Pauline knew better than to openly criticize Edith but she made it plain to him that she neither liked or trusted her. "That woman never makes an appointment. Just shows up like Queen Muck. And that hair color sure didn't come from nature." Edith breezed in late in the afternoons and treated her and the patients with amused contempt. "Oh, don't worry about an appointment. He'll see me next." And he did, without barking about appointments. He _couldn't_ be serious about this slapper!

No, he was serious about the bags of out of date blood she brought him and the research paper he was helping her write.

As was Martin's habit, every time he had reason to stand on the terrace or leave the surgery and walk through the village, he looked for Louisa, hoping to catch a glimpse. She did the same thing, looking for him at every turn. Small consolation when they did see each other, they ended up arguing or her pointedly ignoring him.

When Joan found out that Louisa was back and pregnant, she was over joyed and made Louisa promise to tell her if she ever needed anything, anything at all. She wanted Louisa to live with her so that she could help look after the baby but Louisa said it was too far from the school. No, she had to be independent. It would be too much to ask Joan to drive her back and forth every day.

Louisa told Joan that she was going to the Truro hospital to register as a patient and she insisted on taking her. "It's no trouble, Louisa. I'm happy to do it." Louisa accepted, but just this once, she insisted right back. Martin was there on the slipway where they met and wasted no time in putting Louisa's back up again by criticizing her for eating a few Jelly Babies.

"I just fancied some." She said defensively.

"You know that the weight you gain during the pregnancy will be harder to shift because of your age. You shouldn't have wasted calories and excess sugar." He said helpfully – he thought. To her, he was criticizing her again and was that a crack about her age? She glared at him and snapped, "Thank you, Mar-tin. I'm aware that pregnant women should watch their weight. Especially _older_ women!"

She was angry again. No surprise. No matter what he said or how helpful he tried to be, it made her angry. Probably hormones. Joan pulled up and he, thinking that she wanted him for some reason, told her to wait just a minute.

"No, it's Louisa I've come for. Are you ready to leave? Well, come on then." She called.

Louisa walked toward the truck and Martin asked where they were going.

"Joan's taking me to Truro to register at the hospital." Louisa answered him without stopping.

He didn't know whether he should feel guilty or responsible, he just knew that he wanted them to do this together and asked hesitantly, "Shouldn't I be the one taking you?"

Once again, she pushed him away. "No thanks. I'm fine." He looked so forlorn standing there! When they arrived at the hospital, she waited for what seemed like ages before being shown into a room. The nurse asked all the normal questions and then asked if her husband would be attending any of the appointments. "No, I'm not married." She replied. Next question was, "Will the father cooperate in a study?" Louisa didn't see the woman enter the room as she answered, "Why? And what study?"

The woman turned out to be the red head. She answered that it was a study of geriatric patients who were having babies. She smiled and added with certainty "And no, he won't cooperate." And left the room. Just how well did they know each other anyway? What kind of remark was that? Had Martin talked to her about their baby? That was the second time that day someone had implied that she was old. Did that smirk never leave her face? Her thoughts were in a whirl.


	4. Chapter 4

Staying at the Crab and Lobster was noisy, inconvenient and the rent was breaking her. Joan guessed it and offered to help. She knew of a small place with moderate rent and close to the school. An elderly man was moving to a care home and wanted to rent it out. It was dreadfully dirty and smelly. Cleaning it up counted as the deposit and, between the two of them, it was finally cleaned and sparsely furnished with odd pieces on loan from Joan. Al gave her a good price to do some needed repairs.

They had been hard at work since mid-morning with minimal breaks. If finally caught up with Louisa when she went to get the last chair from Joan's truck. She staggered back into the house feeling nauseated and dizzy and quickly sat down, trying to hold her head between her knees. That certainly wasn't an easy thing to do! Joan panicked and, against Louisa's wishes, called Martin. Afraid that she was seriously hurt and endangered the baby, he ran through the village, arriving breathless to find Louisa calmly sitting on the sofa, pulse just a little elevated, blood pressure regular and cheeks just a little flushed. Just why was he called? "This doesn't look like an emergency!"

Before his arrival, she had hurriedly splashed her face with cold water and pinched her cheeks to give them some color so was able to meet him with fake serenity. She said airily, "Well, I did ask Joan not to call. _I_ certainly didn't want to bother you."

He gave a disgusted grunt and Joan said, "I was frightened. She got dizzy and almost fainted. It's surely no trouble for you to come check on her."

Louisa rebelled at that. "I _didn't_ almost faint. I just felt dizzy. That's all."

That did it. He said furiously, "It was very inconvenient! I can't believe that you're stupid enough to move furniture. You're heavily pregnant Louisa! When will you…"

Now Louisa got angry and interrupted him, "I don't need you to tell me that I'm pregnant Mar-tin! Pregnant but not helpless! And certainly not stupid! I didn't want Joan to call you because I knew just how you'd act! Angry, critical and, and, and _pompous_!"

He was getting red in the face so Joan tried to mediate, "I'm sorry that I bothered you but I thought she needed help."

"Well she won't get it from me!" he bellowed.

"Marty! For heaven's sake!" cried Joan.

"She has repeatedly told me that I'm to have no involvement with her pregnancy or the child. And believe me, she won't have to tell me again!" And he stomped out, slamming the door behind him.

He raged all the way up Roscarrock Hill and into the surgery. Pauline took one look at his face, closed the surgery and left as quickly as she could, shaking her head at their irrational behavior.

He couldn't believe how stupid she was. And how reckless. Unbidden, the next thought was why wouldn't she let him…let him what? That was a question he wasn't ready to ask. He tried to make a cup of espresso but broke the machine with angry, jerky movements. Buggar! He burned his fish and generally made a mess in the kitchen. Did she have any food in the house? She needed proper nutrition. He knew what she normally prepared for herself. A greasy fry up or those god-awful beans on toast. At best, she boiled an egg. He should call Aunty Joan and ask her. No! He wasn't ready for another lecture. Besides, she wouldn't leave Louisa wanting for anything. He finally gave up. He couldn't eat anything anyway. It stuck in his throat. A shower and bed with the latest lancet. That would calm him down. It didn't work this time. The image of Louisa fainting stayed with him no matter what he did. He had a long night.

When he slammed the door, Louisa let go. She was trembling with rage and threw a can of furniture polish across the room. How dare he! She hated the word stupid and he had dared to call her that! She was done with him and his interfering, rude and obnoxious behavior.

Joan knew better than to apologize for Martin. Been there, done that and it never worked. She used the need for groceries to get out of Louisa's way. She needed to rage in private. When she returned, Louisa was still fuming, pacing up and down the small room, slamming cabinet doors, scrubbing the small kitchen table as if she was trying to remove the paint, scowling with traces of tears on her cheeks but not saying anything. She didn't trust herself to say what was on her mind about Joan's beloved nephew. Her remarks certainly wouldn't be pretty! Joan quietly prepared baked chicken breast, sprouts, broccoli and a pot of tea. "Your dinner's ready. If you need me for anything, anything at all, please call me. Ok?"

Louisa was ashamed of her churlishness. Joan deserved all the gratitude she could muster. Damn Martin! She embraced Joan, saying, "I'm sorry for my behavior. Thank you for all your help today. And loaning me all this furniture! I couldn't have done it without you. Are you sure you won't eat with me?"

"No thank you, I've work to do at the farm and don't be silly! You don't owe me thanks or an apology. Now eat your dinner and have an early night. You must be exhausted. Good night Louisa." They embraced again and she left. Louisa tried to force the food down but just couldn't manage it. She had a nutritious dinner of hot tea. And a long night. It looked like he was through with her. Well, that's what she wanted. Wasn't it?

A week later, there was an incident on the beach with Mr. Strange and the children. He was the Head Teacher and was convinced that Louisa wanted his job. He resented her presence, her easy relationship with the children and other teachers and watched her constantly. She and Martin managed to have a brief and, for once, civil conversation about him. He stopped her on the plat, mainly just to talk to her, to ask how she was fitting back in and she described Mr. Strange's behavior, in addition to other more alarming things, as weird. Martin cautioned her to tell him at once if his behavior became threatening toward her in any way. For once, she agreed without argument.

He had been consulting Martin about headaches and the feeling that he had been blacking out. The examination included a urine sample. Martin checked it and quickly realized that Mr. Strange had a serious condition that could bring on episodes of psychotic behavior and should receive immediate treatment. To add to his concern was that Louisa had described his behavior as 'not normal' and that he watched her all the time. Was he a threat to her safety? No one at the school knew where he was. Martin felt tightness growing in his chest. He tried calling Louisa to make sure she was ok but his calls went to voicemail. _Where was she_? Penhale was away on a call but promised to return to Port Wenn as quickly as he could and look for Mr. Strange.

She came back from an appointment with the bank to discover that Mr. Strange and some children were missing and no one knew where they were. The battery on her phone was low so she didn't waste the remaining minutes listening to messages and didn't hear Martin's warning her of Mr. Strange's possible behavior. By questioning different people in the village, she traced them to Roscarrock Cove. He was yelling bizarre and confusing orders like telling the children to take off their shoes and clean the rocks. She called Martin – the first person she always thought of when there was any kind of trouble – and, as always, he rushed to help her. They were so relieved to see each other that their anger was temporarily forgotten. He looked at her eagerly, assessing her condition. She looked well, not harmed, just concerned for the children. They were alright, just bewildered by the erratic behavior of the Head Teacher.

Mr. Strange's actions were dangerously unpredictable. She was kneeling in the sand comforting one of the children and he just walked up and shoved her over. She landed hard on her bottom and back. Martin exploded with rage and concern and helped her up, running his hands over her back and belly. Was she ok? The baby? No twinges or unusual pain?

He seemed to have no idea why Martin yelled at him. "How dare you touch her!" Martin roared.

Mr. Strange just let out an insane laugh and ran towards the water.

"Martin, Mr. Strange is running toward the water. Stop him!"

"Stop him? I'd like to let him drown!" Instead, he raced after the deranged man, splashing through the cold water, until he caught him. "Mr. Strange! You're suffering from a psychotic episode. Stop this and come back to shore with me. Come on you idiot!" And they both went under. Martin was trying to pull him back to shore, Mr. Strange laughing and yelling as he resisted. They heard the siren and Joe jumped out of the vehicle, immediately pulled off his equipment belt and ran to help drag the man back to safety. Mr. Strange looked like a puppet whose strings had been cut and had to be helped to the back of Joe's police vehicle. "Hey, Doc. The dynamic duo in action again." Joe congratulated them both as he touched his fist to Martin's unwilling one.

Needless to say, Martin was soaking wet with cold salt water, concerned about and irritable with Mr. Strange and beyond worried about Louisa. He hurried back to her and asked, "Are you sure you're alright? No pain or discomfort?"

She was busy trying to reassure the children, get them calmed down, put their shoes back on and return to the school. Yes, she was grateful but, based on his behavior of the last few weeks, expected him to say something horrible so she pushed him away again. "Yes, I'm ok for the tenth time! Right, children, let's go back to school." And she moved away from him, then turned back to say with the same courtesy that she would give a stranger who helped her pick up a spilled bag of groceries, "And thank you for your assistance."

And that's the thanks he got! She could've been seriously injured! Or the baby! Well, he knew better than to expect anything else from her. And once again, he raged all the way up Roscarrock Hill.

Working with Edith on her report and speech soothed his anxiety about Louisa. He enjoyed the mental exercise and learning things from a different area of medicine. They worked late a couple of nights so he invited her to eat with him. She kissed him on the cheek again one evening and then, another time, on the mouth. "That's appropriate, don't you think?" It surprised him but didn't affect him in any way so tolerated her attentions. Years ago, the sex between them had been, well, sexless. More by rote than anything else - no response from her, just waiting till he finished. Then she would push him off as if nothing had happened and start talking about their studies. He had been so surprised that a woman would actually _want_ to have sex with him that, at first, he thought it thrilling. After she broke it off with him, other women had taught him that it could actually be passionate and that he could fulfill their needs while fulfilling his own.

Always before, he had insisted on brief, meaningless affairs. A dinner date with some woman who made him aware of her interest was the extent of his effort. But with Louisa, it had been different. She was the first woman he had ever wanted to wake up next to. Passion, yes, but there was tenderness and the desire to keep her close to him, to protect and care for her for the rest of his life. He _needed_ her. That fact had terrified him before she left for London as much as being a father did now. He had taught himself to be self-reliant, to not need anybody. Louisa changed everything and she was pregnant with their child. He had to make things right between them and convince her to give him another chance.


	5. Chapter 5

He agreed to attend the symposium where Edith would give her speech because the head of the Medical Board would be there. They needed to meet face to face to talk about his future in medicine. Chris had informed him that Martin wanted to return to London. Edith, sure that his attendance was because he wanted to be with her, volunteered to reserve his room at the hotel when she made hers.

He made daily and discernable progress curing his phobia. Now he could slice open fresh beef liver and swirl the blood with his fingers while watching videos of surgeries. Some of them were videos that the hospital had made of his surgeries as teaching aids. It was surreal but, at the same time reassuring, to watch his hands inside a body. His hands twitched and, unaware of it, they echoed the movements he saw on the screen. Edith brought more bags of blood and he make surgical incisions and cut them open, blood spraying over his face and apron, dipping his fingers into the bowl with no ill effects whatsoever. "Well done, Ellingham!" He calmly watched and the surgeries from the balcony without Sam's support with no ill effects. Hospital staff spread the word that he was there and crowds formed around him asking him to critique the surgery, asking questions, telling him how reading his papers had helped them with some problem and, generally, just basking in the glow of being with the famous Dr. Martin Ellingham. Being back in the world of discussing medical procedures with other professionals and teaching was satisfying in the extreme and made him more determined than ever to return to surgery.

The gaggle of silly village girls, who seemed to have nothing better to do with their time than to wander about the village making senseless and often cruel remarks to everyone they met, made Louisa's life hell. They were obsessed with Martin's private life and spent many evenings sitting on the wall outside the surgery watching every move that he made. They especially waited for that red headed woman to show up and counted every minute that she was there. They would way lay Louisa some time during the next day and giggling, would call to her, "Hey, Louiser! That redhead was with the Doc again last night and they were kis-sin'! Whoo-o-o-o! Bet he used a condom this time!"

Louisa's only defense was to walk on. She clamped down on her imagination and hurt. This was her life now, get on with it.

It was time for her to have another scan. Joan had already done so much that she just couldn't ask her to make that long trip to the hospital again so rode the bus. It was clean and comfortable – for most people anyway. She had gone to the loo just before she left but was desperate to go again. Oh, the joys of being pregnant!

She was shown into an examination room and the nurse helped her up on the table, pushed up her blouse and down the top of her pants. And there was her belly on glorious display, navel poking out like a big pimple. A few minutes into the scan with Louisa craning her neck to see the screen, the nurse stopped abruptly and said, "The doctor will be here shortly." And walked out. That was potentially alarming. Louisa reached for the cart with the scanner on it trying to pull it close enough so that she could see the picture. And her upper body slid off the table, sort of like warm syrup off pancakes! She was hanging there, totally helpless and embarrassed when the redhead walked in.

"Oh my. You poor dear. Let's get you situated. We haven't been introduced. I'm Dr. Edith Montgomery. OBGYN. And you're Louisa Glasson from Port Wenn. It's time we met. Wouldn't you agree?"

She turned to the screen and a few seconds later said, "Yes. It's SGA, Small for Gestational Age. A normal fetus at this stage of a pregnancy would be approximately thirty-four centimeters. Not even close. Have you made a mistake? No, I don't mean by getting pregnant. When was the last time you had sex, and this should be an easy question to answer, with Elling…Dr. Ellingham?"

"Is there something wrong with the baby? Can you see something wrong?" Louisa asked frantically.

"Just answer my question. You may have gotten the date wrong. If you can't be exact, be as accurate as possible. So, when was the last time you had sex with Dr. Ellingham?" There was just a hint of amusement in Edith's smile as she repeated the question.

A memory flashed into Louisa's mind. Unbelievable tenderness and passion every time they made love. Sweet words and promises with that velvet voice of his whispering "Oh Louisa!". She knew exactly when the last time was but couldn't bring herself to tell the woman who looked to be her replacement. The memories were just too precious. It was grating to think that Edith had experienced the same things. "I'm not sure of the exact date. Sometime in the last two weeks of October."

"Oh dear, memorable then." She smirked. "Well we'll work with what we have. We'll schedule you for more tests. The nurse will set them up and explain the procedures to you." And she left taking that superior smile with her.

The nurse frowned at her retreating back, clearly disapproving of such a condescending and dismissive manner. But, she was more than courteous and helpful to the nervous mother-to-be. "Here are pamphlets detailing each procedure that we've discussed. They're very thorough but if you have any questions, just call Dr. Montgomery or if you prefer, the obstetrics department, although you'll probably be referred to her anyway."

Shaken and worried about the baby, Louisa knew that calling Edith was far down on her list of possibilities. She would talk to the doctors in Wadebridge instead. The nurse helped her off the table and waited till she wiped the gel off her stomach and adjusted her clothes. She heard Edith talking to someone in the hall. "Robert! I saw Ellingham two nights ago and he's ready to come back to London. Very ready I would say."

The man named Robert replied, "If he does, that would be a great thing for the surgical department at Imperial. Staff here are telling me about his visits. You know he generates excitement whenever he's in a hospital. We have to be sure about his phobia first. How would you assess his progress in dealing with it?

"He's advancing with remarkable speed. You know Ellingham when he sets his mind to something. You can rest easy about it." She answered with assurance.

"Weren't you two in medical school together?" He asked.

She answered with a soft little laugh, "Yes, and engaged until my career got in the way. He was devastated but it shouldn't be a problem now that we'll both be in London. He's escorting me to the symposium and we plan on staying overnight together." And they moved out of earshot.

That did it! The perfect end to a perfectly dreadful day.

By the time the bus dropped her off, she was desperate to wee, her back hurt, her ankles were swollen and aching and she had the mother of all headaches. She was slowly making her way home after stopping at the public convenience when Al saw her. "God! She looks awful! Wonder if the Doc knows?" He continued to watch to make sure she made it home then loped up the hill to the surgery. He paced nervously, waiting for the Doc to come out. Pauline assured him that he could jump line. Martin came out escorting a patient and saying, as usual, "Next patient."

Al said, "Doc, I need to see you for just a minute. It's real important."

Al was one of the few villagers that Martin actually liked so answered, "Come through." He sat behind his desk, hands folded, waiting for Al to speak.

Al looked closely at the Doc and thought he looked just as bad as Louisa. But his concern was for her. "Doc, I just saw Louiser comin' back from her scan and she looks real rough."

Martin had heard the expression 'the floor heaved beneath his feet' and never thought it possible till that moment. He grabbed the edge of his desk and asked, "What scan and what do you mean by rough? Please be more specific."

Al looked at him in disbelief. "Her scan! In the hospital in Truro! Didn't you know? Damn Doc! I know more about your baby than you do. How specific do you want me to be? You got to check on her – _now_!" And for the first time in their acquaintance he said with contempt, "You tosser!" And he showed the Doc that he wasn't the only man who could slam a door.

Martin immediately grabbed his bag, rushed past Pauline saying, "Reschedule the rest of my appointments and close the surgery." And he was gone, actually passing Al halfway down the hill.


	6. Chapter 6

He ran through the village again, almost getting hit by a car, dodging around people and shouting "Get out of my way!" the whole time.

He arrived at her cottage in record time, breathless and holding a stitch in his side. He could see her through the window sitting on the couch holding her head in her hands, shoulders slumped and, somehow, defeated looking. He threw the door open and entered, never even thinking of knocking. "Al said you were ill. Let me examine you." He checked her vitals and then started ranting. "Pulse racing, blood pressure raised, no color. What imbecilic thing have you done now? Oh yes, you went for a scan today. You probably rode that wretched bus instead of just asking me to take you. That would be too easy, wouldn't it? Over seven months pregnant and riding the bus! What did they say?"

While he scolded, he got a cold cloth and pressed it against her forehead, removed her tight shoes, gently laid her back and put her feet up on the sofa.

For the first time since he had known her, she didn't snap back at him.

"Louisa, tell me what's wrong. I can help you and the baby. For god's sake, answer me!"

Sighing, she started to sit up but he pushed her back down. "No, stay still. You need to rest. You can talk lying down."

She pressed the cold cloth to her eyes and shook her head a little as if trying to block out an image, before answering, "Do you know who my doctor is? No? Well it's your friend, Edith. She was… less than pleasant. Less than … So, to make it less stressful for me, I'm going to register at Wadebridge tomorrow and let the County midwife deliver him when it's time. And she can buggar off."

He was surprised at this. "Wadebridge? Why? I'm not surprised that Edith is your doctor. They give her space for her research and, in return, she handles some of the OBGYN duties. Granted she's unpleasant but is also a very knowledgeable doctor."

"It takes more than knowledge, Martin. I don't want her to be my doctor if there's any way I can avoid it. It's very awkward knowing that my baby doctor has a _history_ with the father of my baby, and from the sound of it, a future, too." Now she was getting her spirit back.

He was stunned, "What are you talking about? Yes, we knew each other many years ago" he started to say but she interrupted with,

"More than _knew_. You were engaged and devastated when she broke it off."

" _and_ were briefly engaged and, yes, she broke it off to go to Canada. That was the best thing that could have happened to me. And I certainly wasn't devastated. There's no 'future' for us. It's ridiculous for you to even think that. If you don't want her to be your doctor, fine. It's your choice. Now, tell me what they said about the scan

Eyes bright with unshed tears, she reached for her handbag and pulled out the picture of the scan and watched his face as he looked at their child for the first time. That was the Martin that she loved. Face it! She loved this difficult and maddening man and there was no changing that fact. And he loved the baby. It showed in his expression.

"Edith said it's SGA and scheduled more tests for me. Martin, is our baby is trouble? I got all the technical information but no assurance about his health. Is he ok?"

He carefully studied the small picture of his living, breathing child. "Louisa, you can't base the well-being of a fetus on one scan. Some fetuses…"

She interrupted him, "Child Martin. Not fetus. That's our child!"

He continued, "Yes, our child. Some children are small through-out the gestational period. Some have growth spurts. I've done extensive studying about pregnancies and feel confident telling you that our baby is fine. Better now?"

"Yes, but all the tests. If it's fine why does she think I need all those tests?" She asked, still worried and with tears spilling out of her eyes.

His hands gentle, he wiped the tears off her cheeks and answered. "It's just a precaution. You shouldn't worry too much about them. Haven't you heard about babies that weigh over a stone and then some that weigh less than six kilograms? There's a wide range of 'correct measurements'. She's being thorough. That's all." He paused, expecting another rejection, "Do you want me to go with you for the tests? I know they've been explained to you but…"

"Yes, yes I would. But you said extensive studying. Why? Because of her?" she asked with more than a tinge of pettishness.

"You're pregnant. It makes sense that I would study it. Why would you think it has anything to do with her?" His answer was matter of fact.

He checked her vitals again and, very relieved, told her, "You pulse is fine as is your blood pressure. How's the headache? I can give you some paracetamol if you want. Here, you can sit up now. Would you like some tea?"

She was lost in her memories. This was how it was between them for that brief period. Why oh why did they let it go? She told him he wouldn't make her happy. Well, she certainly wasn't happy without him.

"Yes, tea would be good. I haven't had time to eat anything since breakfast. I'll walk to the shops and get something simple for dinner. Would you like to join me?" She asked, expecting a firm no. It was past his 6:00 deadline for eating.

"Yes, I would but you're to stay on the sofa and rest. He went to the refrigerator to pour her a glass of milk and there was none. "You're out of milk. Drink this water while I'm gone. You're probably dehydrated. I'll buy some milk. Better for you than tea. I can prepare something for our dinner easily enough. What would you like to have?"

The 'our dinner' pleased her. Knowing his preferences, she replied, "Fish sounds good. Whatever kind you want to cook. You always prepare the best vegetables so, if you don't mind, make that decision, too."

"Yes, I'll be back in half an hour. Don't do anything to exert yourself." And he left.

She had to wee again so made her way up the stairs, taking the water with her. It was good and cold. At least her legs were getting exercise with her having to go every five minutes! There were still the elephants in the room – London and Edith. Some food in her stomach would help. She felt as weak as the proverbial kitten so laid down with her feet up for a few minutes.

He came back with the groceries and she wasn't there! "Louisa! Where are you? I told you to rest! Are you _trying_ to injure yourself for god's sake?"

She felt like yelling back at him but no more stress between them. No more fighting. There had already been enough. "I'll be there in a minute. Just had to wee. That's all."

He was looking for cooking utensils when she came down the stairs. "This kitchen is ridiculous! Don't you have a grilling pan?"

"Stop fussing! No, I don't have many cooking utensils yet. I rented my house furnished so left all of mine there. Can't you make do?" She asked as she sat down at the small kitchen table.

"Of course I can _make do_ but I shouldn't have to! This whole situation is absurd! You've barely enough room to walk around. How are you going to live with a baby in this space?" He asked as he looked for seasonings and imagining her living in this awful place.

She waited in silence for him to look at her. She had questions too.

When she didn't answer him, he stopped and looked at her. "Well, aren't you going to answer me?"

"Martin, when were you going to tell me that you're moving back to London? And aren't you going to escort Edith to some symposium – for an overnight trip? Those facts surely have some bearing on our conversations." Keep calm she told herself.

"How did you find out about that? Never mind. Somehow you heard it from Edith. First of all, I've been wanting to tell you about London ever since you got back but we haven't exactly been getting along. Second, yes, I'm going to the symposium and Edith will be there as she's the speaker. That doesn't mean that I'm _escorting_ her and I certainly won't spend the night with her. Some people from Imperial will be there and we have things to discuss. That's all."

"But you've been together a lot. Are you sure about not spending the night with her? She seemed pretty confident." The only thing that could have prevented her asking that question was tape over her mouth. "No, don't answer that. It's none of my business. Sorry."

"Maybe not but I assure you again that I have no desire to be with her. She showed up at the surgery one afternoon to ask me to help her write her report. I've always enjoyed things like that. And, she's been helping me with my phobia. That's all it was and I'm not responsible for what she thinks." He assured her.

"I'm thrilled that you can go back to surgery and to your life in London. You told me once that it was the only thing you were ever good at. A ludicrous statement by the way! Congratulations." She said sincerely.

"We'll talk more after you've eaten. You're still very pale. I'll have it ready in fifteen minutes. Here, drink a glass of milk while you wait." He said as he poured the milk and moved around a small and unfamiliar kitchen as if he cooked there every day – sure and precise movements.

After they finished the meal of low sodium and optimum nutrition, she felt much better and insisted that she clear up the dishes. He grunted and, since he could move more quickly than she could with her belly getting in the way, said, "No you won't. I'm perfectly capable of doing this. Why don't you take your shower while I'm here? We still have a few things to discuss and then you have an early night. You've had a stressful day."

She nodded and went back up the stairs. Just as well, she had to wee again. When she came out of the lavatory dressed in comfortable old pajamas that stretched across her stomach showing her 'outie', he was there in her bedroom hanging up her dress and straightening the room. "Let's get your laundry together and I'll do it before I leave. Is there anything else you need tonight? What's the matter? Do you feel ill again?" He asked as he felt her forehead.

"No, it's the baby. I think we're going to have a gymnast on our hands!" and she moved his hand to her stomach. He stood without moving while he felt for the first time the baby actually move. He had the same expression on his face as when he saw the scan.

"Ah hem. Well, that's perfectly natural and reassuring. The movements are strong." Said the doctor but the father kept his hand against the spot until the movement stopped. "Are you ready to retire? I think you should."

"You said we still had a few things to discuss so will you be alright up here while we talk? There's no chair for you. I'm feeling much better and don't mind if you want to go back downstairs." She offered.

"Are you sure? You have to work tomorrow even though you shouldn't. Alright, alright, don't look at me like that! I'll take these clothes with me and put them in your washing machine. Be careful on the stairs. I'll go first." He cautioned.

He put the clothes in the machine, found a basket of unfolded ones and brought them into the lounge area to fold. "He's certainly helpful to have around!" She thought.

He was in his element – being with her, caring for her and the baby. And no fighting. If it could always be this way! Leaving her and their baby for London seemed impossible.

"I've been meaning to speak to you about finances. Here's a check for $$$ for emergencies and I'll arrange to have a monthly draft put in your account. And you're still listed as my beneficiary. You and the baby won't want for anything. Understand?" He asked as he neatly folded her embarrassing maternity panties and huge bras.

"Yes, I do. Neither of us expected this but I never worried that you wouldn't be financially generous. You're a good man Martin. But he won't know you or you him and that's sad for you both." She said quietly.

"What do you mean? Of course he'll know me. I don't think I'll be a particularly good father but he'll know me." Her remark confused him.

She scoffed at that and replied, "You'd be a wonderful father but think about it Martin. When you go back to London, to the life you love and the people you know there, this place will be like a bad dream. You've hated everything about it since the first day you moved in. And, Edith will be waiting. Your visits will be more and more infrequent and then they'll stop all together. It's just human nature." She stated with sad certainty.

Now indignant, he said, "You're being morbid. I'll never leave you to bring up our baby without help. And I wish you'd get Edith out of your head. We're infrequent colleagues. That's all. And I don't hate everything here. There's Aunty Joan…and you."

She shrugged her shoulders in disbelief and asked, "When do you think you'll leave? Is your phobia cured?"

"I'm still working on the phobia. It's coming on very well. And, I have to give Edith some credit for my success. She's brought me bags of blood to deal with. As to when I'll leave, there are some plans I'm formulating so can't answer that yet." He sounded confident and she loved him enough to really be pleased in spite of him mentioning Edith.

They sat silently, both trying to think of another reason for him to stay. "There's something else, I'd like to meet the mid-wife and take you to Wadebridge to register. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes, please. I'd like your opinion of her qualifications and for you to meet the doctors." And there was silence again.

"Well, are you ready to go to bed now? Alright, I'll come up with you." He so badly wanted to stay just a little longer. Or better still, take her back to the surgery with him.

"I have to wee first. I feel like a leaky water balloon!" She grumbled.

He turned down her blankets and made sure she was comfortable and well covered. Now there really wasn't another reason to stay. He had told her on that awful day that she wouldn't make him happy. What a fool he had been! Roger Fenn told him that he was a miserable buggar. Well, without her, he was a _thoroughly_ miserable buggar!

He looked down at the picture she made and thought how many times he had imagined her just like this. Sable hair spread across the pillow, eyes and lips soft and inviting. He remembered the feel of her silky skin under his hands and his body reacted despite his best efforts to control it. God! She's beautiful! The words 'I love you' trembled on his lips but he couldn't say them yet. As he had told her, he was working on some plans. "You're so very beautiful, Louisa. Call me at once if there's anything you need and I'll be here. Sleep well." And he walked quickly out of the room before he embarrassed them both by begging to be allowed to stay.

She whispered good night to his retreating back, desperate for him to stay. But no, he had made it clear that she wouldn't make him happy. And, there was still Edith lurking in the back of her mind.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day went normally for them both. She at the school and he at the surgery. People noticed that she was quieter and looked sad. A bright spot was when he called her just to make sure that she was ok and not overdoing it. Regrets are a terrible thing and she realized that if only she had always understood that his actions were out of concern for her wellbeing and not to dominate or criticize her, they would still be together.

Sam had helped him examine his conduct and made him realize that his behavior had been too much like a superior dealing with an underling who needed instruction instead of an intelligent woman with whom he was lucky enough to have as a lover. She deserved better from him.

"Tosser!" was flung at the Doc by many of the villagers and several "How could you!"s. He didn't notice any of it. His legendary scowl wasn't quite as ferocious as it had been for the past few weeks.

The doctors in Wadebridge concurred with Martin's assessment of the scan and the rest of the tests were all positive. Louisa disliked Edith even more. Excellent doctor my active bladder!

By unspoken agreement, he came to her cottage every night for the next few weeks. Mindful of Sam's advice, he asked Louisa after the first week, if she wanted him to prepare their meal or go to a restaurant.

He told her his idea, "I think we should make plans to eat out more frequently. Or just go for a drive if you prefer. There are many scenic drives from which to choose."

Stunned for a moment, she suggested, "That would be delightful. I know you prefer to eat at home but there are some good restaurants that would meet your high standards. And it's fun to put on your prettiest dress and go out with a handsome man. Thank you, Martin. But let's limit our outings to no more than once a week and we take turns choosing what we want to do. After all, it's only a few weeks until you leave."

She couldn't have come up with a more perfect answer but he grunted in disagreement at the handsome remark and he ignored the part about him leaving. "Yes. You choose first."

"Well, how about trying that new Tintagel Restaurant this Friday evening. It has a perfect health rating and a healthy choice menu. Is that somewhere you would be comfortable eating?"

If she had said a fish and chip stall, he would have agreed but silently gagged at the thought of all that grease. But she didn't. "Yes, that would be acceptable. Is fish alright with you tonight?"

She nodded and bent over to pick up some papers and he gulped at the sight of her dress stretching over that perfect bum. Even if he thought she trusted their relationship enough to resume sexual relations, he wouldn't risk the health of the baby by suggesting it.

She would catch herself remembering what his body felt like pressed against hers and grieve for what was lost between them. After all, he was going to London and would be just an occasional visitor who was visiting his child. Sex was never mentioned.

So, they had to fill their time together in other ways. Martin found that talking to Louisa was easy and enjoyable. She was an intelligent and insightful companion but, just as important, she _listened_ to him. She discovered that he wasn't only knowledgeable about so many things, he could be a good conversationalist, too and had a dry wit. They spent comfortable evenings together and his efforts to change weren't too difficult at all. After all, he was doing it to make her happy and it was working.

On a beautiful Saturday, after the surgery closed, he suggested that they go for a drive with no destination in mind and see where they ended up. They would find a pub or restaurant they liked and eat dinner there. They ended up at a beachside pub with magnificent views and an acceptable menu. They chose salads made with crisp lettuce and fresh vegetables served with house made pomegranate/balsamic vinegar dressing. He, of course, chose shrimp as the topping. They left the restaurant and he took her hand and led her up a sloping path to a terrace with comfortable benches. "You're not tired, are you? We can go back to the car if you wish." He asked as he studied her complexion.

She squeezed his hand and placed it on her stomach where the baby was, what felt like, playing football, and answered, "Not at all. I think the baby is happy to be here, too. It's so lovely. Do you want to walk on?"

He stood feeling the baby's movements with that seldom seen look in his eyes that always melted her heart. He could express so much with those beautiful green eyes. "Harumph. Yes, let's continue on. I'm glad you wore sensible shoes."

They watched a stunning sunset from the terrace and left for home. He dropped her off at her cottage saying that he would park the car and join her for a light dinner. Fish was his automatic choice but, wait, consider what Louisa would want. She had a distinct preference for lamb.

In an hour, the braised lamb chops, sautéed spinach with water chestnuts and carrots were ready to eat.

"Optimum nutrition and low sodium?" she asked in a teasing voice. It went right over his head.

"Yes, you need proper nutrition and too much sodium isn't good for anyone, much less pregnant women." He answered seriously.

She laughed and said, "Yes, thank you Martin. It looks delicious."

They tried to watch a news/talk program where the panel members were all so pompous and condescending while they talked over each other so much that the viewer couldn't understand half what they were saying. Martin started fidgeting in exasperation and Louisa snorted, "Do you want to watch the rest of this tripe? Ridiculous show!"

"No, I do not. How can anyone learn anything by watching people behave in such an ill-mannered way! It's getting late and you've had a long day so I'll leave now." And stood up to leave. She held her hand out and he pulled her into an embrace. "Thank you for today, Louisa. It was very pleasant. I hope you enjoyed it, too."

She stood on tiptoe and lightly kissed him. "Yes, I did very much. You had such a good idea for today and the spinach was wonderful. It's by far my favorite vegetable."

"Yes. Have a restful night and I'll see you tomorrow. I have some work to do in the morning that requires my presence at the surgery so I won't see you. Unless you want to chance coming there. I can buy a fish if you like." He said and felt her arms go around his waist.

"I'd love to. I, too, have work to do so two o'clock? Is that too early?" She answered.

"Yes, that would be satisfactory. Good night Louisa." They kissed again and he left. She twirled around in happiness and swayed to the stairs. It had been the best date ever! She was determined to enjoy every minute of his time before he left for London.

That afternoon was the last time they met at the surgery. He was interrupted twice by "Whingers and complainers!" "Call Monday morning and MAKE AN APPOINTMENT!

They spent the next few weeks in the same manner. She was learning to unerringly read his moods and his therapy was making a huge difference in his attitudes and ability to not only feel happiness but to trust it. He and Sam continued to work on his phobia with rapid progress. He was having trouble remembering what his phobia felt like.

In the evenings at her cottage, after eating and clearing up the kitchen, he would either read his journals or work on his notes and she would work on her school papers.

When she finished working, she would move next to him on the sofa and he would join her in reading the multitude of books on parenting that she had gotten from the library. Some he tossed aside dismissively and said, "American!", others he derided as border line nonsense. A few he read closely, nodding his head in agreement with the author and showing her the passages he found sensible. She paid particular attention to those. They did make a lot of sense but she argued that some of the others also had some valid points. It felt good that they could freely discuss things – trivial or important- without him falling into his lecturing mode and her not getting defensive. While never discussing his patients with her, he would tell her about his day or his therapy sessions and listen (without his usual derisive comments about her students) while she told him about hers. Each night started and ended with tender kisses.

When he told Sam how their relationship was going, he nodded his head in approval and congratulations.

One evening he closed the book he had been reading and brought up an unexpected subject – discipline. "I've told you a little about my childhood, the way my parents disciplined me. Sam has questioned me closely about it. I believed that it didn't harm me but now I know how bad they were. I don't like talking about it but how we deal with our child is important. Dad would hit me with his hands or, more often, his belt. He was careful not to bruise me where it would show. Appearances you know. And my mother frequently put me in a dark, dusty cupboard under the stairs for no reason at all. I imagined all sorts of monsters while I was trapped there and frequently wet myself in fear. Of course, she would tell Dad and he would punish me for it. I could never bring myself to do anything like that to a child, especially ours. We'll do things properly with him and he'll never have reason to fear me."

With tears in her eyes, she answered, "I'm so sorry you were treated like that. No child deserves that. What brought it up? Something in that book?"

"Yes. It talks about consequences. You use that approach at the school, don't you?" He asked reflectively.

"Well, yes. Hitting children with sticks went out of fashion a long time ago thank goodness." She answered

"Taking away privileges. Things like that?" He continued.

"Yes. The trick is to know what means the most to each child. Remember Peter Cronk? He was easy. Take away his library privileges. He _enjoyed_ spending time there instead going to Phys Ed." She laughed at that memory.

"I can live with that kind of discipline. I've changed my opinion about how you run your school. Ignorance is no excuse but that's what I am. I know nothing about children so am in no position to criticize you, who's been dealing with them all your professional life. I remember that Aunty Joan used taking away privileges to discipline me. She very seldom had to because I was so happy with them. She wouldn't let me help in the garden and that devastated me." He told her, almost smiling. She gently rubbed his thigh and returned his smile.

Another evening brought more questions and understanding between them. "He put aside his journal and watched her as she did her work. "Louisa?"

"H-m-m?"

"Why were you so angry with me when you came home? I'm asking because, if I don't know what I did to make you angry, I might do it again." He asked quietly.

She was silent for a few moments, then replied hesitantly, "When I left London, I had built up this dream in my mind about how you'd act when I showed up at your door -happy to see me and, hopefully, not angry about the baby. We would talk and make plans for our future and you'd let me stay with you till I found a place to live. You had no idea what I thought or expected. You were entertaining another woman. Then, almost the first word out of your mouth was abortion. I was hurt and, as I usually do when I'm hurt, I ran. Every time we saw each other, I felt you were criticizing me and resenting the baby. I knew you had difficulty talking to people so I owe you an apology for not giving you a chance. We're doing better now though, don't you think?"

He carefully digested her answer before saying. "I'm sorry for my behavior. I was shocked, surprised but, most of all, frightened. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd be a father. Edith and I weren't on a date. You know what we were doing together and romance had nothing to do with it. Seeing you again was…Louisa, I was so relieved that you were back in the village. I think we both run when we're hurt. You leave and I withdraw behind a wall of arrogance. You may look surprised! I've been working with Sam on my difficulties in relating to other people. Yes, we're doing better and I've _never_ been angry about the baby. I owe you an apology, too. I promised to never hurt you and I have. Thank you for explaining it to me. As to abortion, I'm glad you didn't have one."

The time spent with her was as beneficial to him as the meditation exercises, observing surgeries or anything else he had done. He told Sam about his ease in dealing with blood and he was elated at the progress being made. "Whatever you've been doing, just keep doing it. You're making remarkable progress, Martin."

Pauline kept her fingers crossed that his relationship with Louisa was on the mend. It sure looked like it. Doc hadn't yelled at anyone for weeks. One confusing thing happened to him – Al sent a text apologizing for calling him a tosser. When had he done that? Most unlike the congenial Al.

Edith called frequently during this time trying to invite herself for a visit or engage him in talks "I'm working on a new report that will interest you" but he would cut her off, "No Edith, it's not convenient. I still have some bags of blood and I've emailed my ideas on your speech. No, I don't want to help you write another report. There's no reason for us to talk or for you to come here. No, I won't be here. That's none of your business." And hung up. Ok, there was still the symposium. She had plans for that to bring him to heel.

It didn't take long before Joan heard about his visits and crossed her fingers for them. She waited for Louisa after school one afternoon to see for herself if the rumors were true. She was radiant and said, "Yes, Martin's been with me every day and it's wonderful! We've never gotten on so well together. His therapy is remarkably effective and he's happy about the baby, too."

"Well, I'm relieved to hear it. It'll take work but you two love each other and the child needs a father. Louisa, listen to me. Martin doesn't realize it but he's an old-fashioned man and feels he should be responsible for the care of his family. Don't be angry with him. He had awful parents and the fact that he can feel love at all is a miracle. He certainly never got any from them. You know that he'll want you to stay home with the baby, don't you?"

"You mean give up teaching? Not work at all? Be dependent on him? I don't like that idea at all." Said a dismayed Louisa.

"I didn't say you should or shouldn't. Just understand why Martin would want it. He never had a loving mother or home life except with me and Phil and I'm sure he'll want one for his child. Ok? I've got to run now. Think about what I said and I'll see you later." And Joan got in her truck and left.

Louisa briefly thought about what Joan said and could see her points. But, she didn't know about London. There was nothing to indicate that Martin wanted them to be together. Yes, he promised to see them every week-end and they were getting along better than ever but that was it.

The night before he was to leave for the symposium, he rose to his feet and stood looking down at her. "What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing. It just feels odd to think I won't see you till Sunday. I'll call you tomorrow before I leave. Don't overdo while I'm gone. It's not safe for the baby." He said, clearly reluctant to leave.

She rose, saying, "I won't and you promise to be careful. I'll be waiting for your call." And she rose on tiptoe and softly kissed his lips. "Good night and safe journey."

He returned the embrace, savoring their closeness. She slipped her arms under his suit jacket and laid her cheek against his chest. "I can hear your heart beating. It's a lovely sound." She said softly.

Instead of ruining the moment by saying that if his heart weren't beating, he would be dead, he just nodded and rubbed his face against her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. "You smell very…fragrant, er pleasing."

She pulled back a little and looked at his face. She'd never seen such tenderness in his expression before and it took her breath away.

He kissed her and replied, "I won't be gone any longer than absolutely necessary. I must leave now. We need our sleep. You should have a hot shower and go to bed. Good night." He kissed her again and left, locking the door behind him.

She felt lost without his warmth for a few minutes then shook her shoulders and thought "If only."


	8. Chapter 8

He closed the surgery at twelve on Friday in anticipation of traveling to the symposium. He called Louisa to tell her he was leaving and promised to call her later to see if everything was ok but had to be satisfied with voice mail. He just got to the edge of the moors when Pauline called him about an emergency at a farm that turned out to be not too far from his location. Bert had called it in and said that a man called Michael had fallen down the stairs and looked about to 'cork it'. He called Bert and told him, "Call an ambulance and I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't move him." He had already passed the turn off and, as he was turning the car around, Edith called.

"Ellingham? Are you on your way yet? There are several people attending who could be useful to us when you return to Imperial. You should mingle…"

He interrupted her with, "I have an emergency and can't talk now."

"But, Ellingham, these people are important! I don't want you to be late." And he hung up on her. Accustomed to his behavior, she said resignedly, "Oh Ellingham! How I've missed you."

He arrived at the farm to find a man lying at the foot of the stairs, burning up and barely conscious. He hadn't brought his bag with him so had nothing with which to care for the man. His wife, Julie, and Bert had covered him up. Bert introduced them and asked, "How'd you get here so quick? I just hung up about a minute ago."

"I was on my way to Truro for an appointment. He's burning up! Take this blanket away. Michael, it's Dr. Ellingham. Can you hear me?"

Michael mumbled an answer. "Bert, call an ambulance. Jane, do have a thermometer? Well, get it and bring me some ice. I have to try and lower his temperature. And some rubber gloves." He snorted in disgust when she handed him a jam thermometer and a pair of marigolds (yellow, kitchen rubber gloves).

"My name is Julie, not Jane, and Bert's gettin' the ice. Won't be a minute. Anythin' else?" she asked coyly. Was she _flirting_ with him? The woman's an idiot!

"Yes, do you have any petroleum jelly? No, how about some cooking oil? I have to lubricate this thermometer in order to insert into his rectum." He explained.

"Oh my god! Bert, Bert! He's gonna put that big thing up his bum! Should I stop him? Oh my love! Michael, brace yourself darlin'. This is gonna hurt!"

Bert handed him the oil, the thermometer was lubricated and inserted. Michael moaned but Martin couldn't tell if it was discomfort from the insertion of the oversized thermometer or from his sickness. "Thirty-nine. Jennifer, hold this ice against the back of his neck. It'll help cool him off. I'm going to wash my hands." That's when he saw dead game hanging in the pantry. Two of them had discernable tire marks on them and he almost gagged at the odor from the badger. He went back to the hallway and stared at her in horrified disbelief, "Are you and your husband eating those animals?"

"Well, yeah. Can't let meat go to waste. Why?" She asked and looked bewildered at his question.

"Because they're road kill and it's dangerous you imbecile! Among other dangerous diseases, they carry Trichinosis. People infected with it present the same symptoms as Matthew here. I'm calling Health Services. They'll dispose of all that game properly. Bert, have you served any meat from here in your restaurant?" Martin asked, still fuming.

"No sir, I have not. There's no contaminated meat in any restaurant of mine thank you very much! Why don't you go on to your appointment, Doc. I'll wait for the ambulance." Bert motioned that he would follow him out.

"Keep the ice on his forehead and the back of his neck until the ambulance gets here. And stay away from that meat!"

He left with Bert, saying. "Can you remember what to tell them? Wait, I'll write it down."

"Doc, they're goin' around to all the restaurants tellin'em that they got what you call 'exotic game'. I came here to check it out. Sure didn't know it was road kill! I'll spread the word. Don't want customers gettin' sick. You go on, now. I won't leave till ever thing's ok."

Martin nodded and he ran to his car, still marveling at the ignorance of some of his patients. Road kill! Good god!

He arrived at the hotel, got his room key and when he put it in the lock, Edith opened the door. "Hello, Ellingham. I was afraid you'd be late. You know, there are these things called ambulances and they're used for emergencies. Clever isn't it?" She said, mocking him.

"Good to know. How did you get a key to my room?" He asked as he rolled his suitcase through the door.

"It's _our_ room. In order to spend the night together, both people have to be in the same room, wouldn't you agree? Why the face? We've slept together before in case you've forgotten. I assure you that everything's still the same, just not as springy." She was smiling and confident. Why? Surely she didn't think…"

He backed out of the room and looked at her assessingly. "I don't think so. I'll go and get my own room."

"Are you trying to tell me that you don't want this? Don't you remember what it was like? We were good together and there's nothing to get in our way this time." She exclaimed.

"Yes, I remember. We've been working on your speech and my phobia. Those are the only things that I've been thinking of." He responded.

"First a blood phobia – _you_ a blood phobia! Of all people! And now a fear of intimacy. I helped you conquer the first, I can help you with the second. Just trust me." She said bracingly.

"Not wanting to be with you doesn't mean I have a fear of intimacy."

"I think it does. You're exhibiting symptoms…" she started to say.

He interrupted with, "It's a _choice_ , not a symptom. I have my reasons."

"I hope your _reason_ isn't that needy woman from that little tin biscuit town that you impregnated. Good god, Ellingham! Surely, you're not going to let her trap you! She _let_ herself get pregnant and then _chose_ to not get an abortion like I did. She's a big girl. Just give her some money and walk away. Your future's in London now." That scornful expression on her face was repulsive. Walk away from his child? From his responsibilities? He had forgotten just how ruthless she could be. No wonder Louisa didn't want her as her doctor.

"Are you saying that you aborted a baby? Our baby?" He asked quietly.

"Of course I did. I didn't want a baby to tie me down. To pay for a mistake the rest of my life. I could have trapped you, too, just like Louisa wants to do! You wouldn't have liked that." She continued scornfully. "You can't convince me that you want a baby!"

Bile rose in his throat and he felt such rage that he actually wanted to strike her. "You never asked me about the baby! And you don't know what I want or don't want now and, in any case, I don't have to convince you of anything. It's none of your business. I'm going to get another room." And he left.

She called after him, "The hotel is fully booked. You won't get a room so why don't you just leave your suitcase here? It'll save time in the long run."

He rushed to the lavatory and emptied his stomach. What if Louisa had made that choice? It was an unbearable thought. Washing his face with cold water and taking deep breaths calmed him down and he made his way down to the lobby.

She was right, no rooms available. They were full of apologies but maybe he could book in another hotel close by. Yes, they would check for him. No, every decent hotel was fully booked. There were two conventions in town in addition to this symposium.

He asked, "Check and see if Dr. Robert Preston has checked in, please. He has? What's his room number? Seven fourteen? Thank you."

Robert answered the phone and agreed to meet him in the reception area in ten minutes. Just as he hung up Martin heard a scream followed by the sound of running feet and banging doors. He knew those sounds. Someone was hurt. He followed the commotion and made his way to the kitchen. A man was screaming and jumping around and holding his hand out in front of him, blood streaming from it.

"I've cut me bleedin' finger off! Somebody do somethin'! Help!" He screamed, obviously terrified.

Martin walked up, grabbed the hand and tried to wrap a clean towel around it. "What're you doin' you lunatic? I'm bleedin' to death!" He yelled and tried to wrench his hand away, spraying blood all over Martin's shirt front and face.

"I'm a doctor and I'm telling you to stop acting like an idiot, sit down and hold your hand up in the air. Here, you help him. Keep it up! The rest of you, help me find his finger. Hurry now, the surgeons may be able to reattach it." Martin ordered and he, too, searched for the missing finger.

A waiter held it up, "Found it!"

Martin grabbed a clean plate, filled it with ice and put the finger in the middle of it. "I need some cling film to cover it with. I can hear the ambulance. Tell them what happened and give this to them."

He went back to the reception to find Robert waiting for him.

"My word Martin! You've got blood all over your clothing and face! What happened? Were you the one who called that ambulance?" He asked.

Martin replied, barely acknowledging the blood, "An emergency in the kitchen. And no, one of the employees called them. If you'll give me a minute, I'll get cleaned up. I'd like to speak with you if you have time. It's the only reason I'm here."

Robert raised his eyebrows a in surprise at that statement. Edith had gotten a little ahead of herself. Good! Martin deserved better. He answered, "Certainly. I'll wait for you over there."

Martin was accustomed to dressing quickly and, in a short amount of time, he and Robert were ensconced in comfortable arm chairs.

"I'm glad to see you, Martin. We need to talk about your phobia and possible return to surgery. I assume that's what you want to speak to me about. How do you think it's going?" Robert asked.

Martin nodded and answered, "It's going very well. I'm convinced that I can return to surgery and will do whatever necessary to prove it to you and the board. You'll want to speak with my therapist. Here's his card. He'll tell you the same thing."

"That's great news! We've certainly missed your talents and skill. I'll arrange a meeting with the board and be in touch very soon." Robert answered enthusiastically.

"There's something else. I don't want to go back to London. I prefer the hospital here in Truro. Their surgical department is somewhat lacking." He said.

Robert was pleased but puzzled with this request. "You're correct. Truro can certainly use your help. They're already short staffed and Pitts is leaving at the end of next week. He was one of your pupils, yes? Good surgeon but constant complaints from personnel. Can't keep his hands to himself."

"That sounds like Pitts. Total arse." Martin replied.

"But I have to ask you why the change of heart? Are you afraid that a post at Imperial might to be too stressful for you? I can assure you that Truro has been just as busy on many occasions." Asked Robert.

Martin's trusted this man whom he had known for years so felt comfortable telling him his reasons. Robert's inquiry was fully justified so he answered calmly and honestly. "It's a choice based on the needs of my family. I have a child on the way and know that the mother will be happier in Port Wenn where she's always lived. I already have a home there and want to live in it with them."

Robert studied his face and nodded in understanding. He had known this private and talented man for years, first as a pupil and later as a top-rated surgeon, and knew that for him to be so open about his family life showed how important this request was to him. "I didn't know you're going to be a father. Congratulations! I never thought I'd hear that about you! Couldn't be happier for you. I have three myself and two grand-children as well. It's a wonderful thing. A good family life can mean a lot to people in our profession. I understand and will do my best to make your choice a reality.

They said their good byes, shook hands and Martin headed toward the front doors. Edith was waiting for him.

"Where do you think you're going? I've gone out on a big limb for you, vouched for you. I'm the reason you have a chance to redeem yourself by returning to surgery. Stop this ridiculous behavior!"

Astounded that he walked past her, she followed like an annoying little dog snapping at his heels. "You're embarrassing yourself! And you're supposed to listen to my speech. Are you afraid you'll fail again, that your phobia will come back? Well, it will if you can't face up it." He went through the doors and she yelled, "Ellingham! Just wait till Robert hears about this!"

He turned, with his classic 'you're an idiot!' look and said "Edith, first – I told you to mind your own business, second – shut up! It's a pleasure to know that, with luck, I'll never see you again." And left for home.


	9. Chapter 9

It was early evening so Louisa shouldn't mind a quick call. "Louisa, it's Martin here. I'm on my way back from the symposium and wondered if I could stop by to see you. I should be there in under an hour. Have you eaten?"

"Yes, of course you can and no, I haven't eaten. There were parent-teacher meetings after school so I just got home myself. Have you? No? Would you like to eat with me? You would? Good. I'll buy some fish and fresh veggies. Do you want to cook or shall I?" Laughing softly, she agreed, "Yes, it's definitely better for you to do the cooking! Bye."

He parked at the surgery to pick up a package before making his way to her cottage. People were puzzled by his expression. There was no scowl. Oh, he's on his way to see Louiser. That explains it.

Unaware that he was being observed and discussed, he stopped at the Green Grocers and bought some fresh flowers. He bought them frequently, pleased at her happiness when he gave them to her. "Good choice Doc! Louiser likes fresh flowers. I'm bettin' she ain't got another vase yet. She broke hers yesterday. Wanna buy one here?" The clerk said to his surprise. Why should he be surprised? If someone in the village burped, everyone else knew it and would probably join in!

She was watching and met him at the door. "Thank you, Martin! They're lovely! And the vase is perfect! That looks so nice! What are you doing back? I thought you were staying overnight?"

He kissed her hello and ran his hand over her stomach as if to assure himself that all was well and kissed her again. "I met Robert in reception and talked to him there so had no need to stay longer. And I wanted to see you. Are you feeling alright? You're not over-doing it at the school are you? I don't like it when you work so late."

"I'm fine! These meetings are important and I like doing them. I went to bed early last night, ate a good, nutritious breakfast and a light, healthy lunch. I feel very well. Thank you for worrying about me." Crikey! This was so much nicer than bickering with him.

Enormously pleased by her answer, he showed it by "Harumph." And started the preparations for their meal.

"I bought you an apron. Here, let me tie it." She made it snug around his waist. There wasn't room in her tiny kitchen for two people to work so she set the table and stayed out of his way. Again, his movements were smooth and quick.

"How did your talk with, Robert isn't it, go?" She asked while admiring his smooth motions and masculine physique in that suit. She would never get tired of looking at him!

"Yes, Robert Preston, my old tutor and head of the medical board. Good. I have some news for you but let's wait till after we eat to talk about it." He answered.

She just couldn't help herself and had to ask, "And Edith? Didn't you want to hear her speech?"

"No. I helped her write it so know what she'll say. She's actually going to try to tell a joke! Not a good idea. Are roasted sprouts satisfactory?" His answer was ok but his body language said that he didn't want to talk about Edith and that No was loud and clear. Must have been unpleasant.

She sat quietly, watching him work. He served their plates and poured his cup of hot, hot tea and her a glass of milk. She was too curious to talk about mundane matters and since he never did that anyway, they quickly finished their meal and cleared up the dishes together. It wasn't easy but she stood off to his side and dried the dishes as he handed them to her.

"I know I don't have much seating room here but there's no point in me buying more furniture. The lease on my cottage will be up in about fifteen months and I'll have my own again. Haven't you recognized this sofa? It was in the office at the farm." She asked as they sat down together.

He glanced at it indifferently and blurted out, "Remember those plans I told you about? I asked Robert to transfer me to Truro instead of London. He agrees that their surgical department needs help and will try to make it happen. And, you may be interested to know that Pitts has been asked to leave his post. He evidently has trouble keeping his hands to himself."

If he had suggested that Aunt Joan have a sex change, she couldn't have been more surprised. She sat up straight and stared at him with her mouth open, then sputtered, "Truro? Are you sure? London has been your dream! Where you qualified and became famous! Why Truro?"

He smiled just a little at her expression, then answered, "In order. Yes, yes, yes, yes and because of you and the baby, obviously. Are you pleased?"

"Absolutely I'm pleased! Martin, this is wonderful! Are you going to live in Truro?" The last was asked with growing happiness. He was staying close to them! He would see them most weekends! And most of all, Edith would be in London! Or Timbuktu for all she cared.

"No, I'll commute. It's only an hour's drive. But I still have to convince the board that my phobia is cured. Sam will help with that but I will still have to prove myself to everyone before I can perform surgery unsupervised. I feel confident that it will go smoothly. Just not completed yet." He explained.

"Will you still live in the surgery or move to some place smaller? Joan would love it if you moved in with her!" The last was said with laughter.

"We would drive each other mad! No, I plan on staying where I live now, unless you want to live somewhere else?" He asked hesitantly. God, what if she said no!

It took a few seconds for this to sink in. He could have sworn that at least five minutes went by before she answered. "Martin, I said that you wouldn't make me happy. Well I've been miserable without you, every day, all day. But, will I make you happy? You said that I wouldn't and nothing's changed. You know that I can be messy, need to learn to cook and that I snore. The baby will need a lot of space and things. Dirty nappies, sleepless nights, spit up, toys and noise. Can you live with all those things?" She asked, seriously.

"I'm stubborn, difficult to talk to, rude and generally unfriendly. Can you live with those things? And, I've discovered that your snoring doesn't bother me at all so strike that. Becoming accustomed to living with a child will be difficult for both of us but I can't envision _not_ living with it. Can you? And babies grow out of those stages you know. They don't last forever." He assured her.

"Are you asking me to marry you?"

"Well, yes. What did you think I was doing? Before the baby is born preferably. So?" He was actually nervous about her answer! This blessed, difficult and wonderful man.

"Yes, I'll marry you. And, I'll live at the surgery or anywhere else with you. Even London." But she held her breath, hoping that he would still say Truro.

She wasn't disappointed. "No, I really think we'll be happier here. I want Aunty Joan to know our child and for it to know her. The happiest times of my childhood were spent on the farm with Uncle Phil and her. As to the surgery, if I'm no longer the village GP, we'll add two more large rooms to our living space."

"Oh Martin! I do so love you!" and she scooted close to him. It was difficult for them to embrace but needs must and they worked it out. He shifted her to his lap so had total access to her and the baby.

"Oh yes, you should wear this again." And he handed her the engagement ring again just as he had the first time. She joyfully put it on and he shoved it in place. "This time it stays!" she said firmly.

They called Joan, Martin not wanting to take the chance that she would hear from the mailman again about their re-engagement. Needless to say, she couldn't have been happier for them. They sat up late talking and planning. He wanted to stay that night but her single bed made it too difficult and he thought it too late for her to make the trip to the surgery.

The next day was Saturday so a good time for her to move back to the surgery. He showed up at first light to fix breakfast and to help her start packing. It seemed the way to there was filled with well-wishers yelling congratulations and offers of help. Martin wanted to go by them as fast as possible but kept a sedate pace for Louisa's sake, scowl firmly in place and "Mind your own business!" trembling on his lips.

That night, back in their bed, he held her close, relieved that she was happy and with him again. His hand rested on her stomach and he went to sleep feeling their baby move. He felt that emotion that was rare for him - contentment.

They met with the Midwife and Louisa formed an immediate bond with her. Martin had already checked out her history and found it to be more than satisfactory. She held birthing classes and Louisa had a private and proud giggle at how seriously Martin was taking his duties. He couldn't help but try to instruct her about the proper ways for her to perform her job. When she suggested that he let her sit in on his consultations so that she could instruct him, he snorted but thereafter kept his comments to himself – for the most part anyway. He put her phone number on speed dial.

They went shopping for nursery furniture in Truro and never had baby furniture gone thru such thorough inspections. The sales people were afraid that he would actually sit on the changing table to test its strength! They wrote up the receipt, promised quick delivery and almost pushed them out the door. At one time, Louisa would have blushed and apologized but no more. She just shrugged and was happy that their baby would have such well vetted furniture.

They met Chris and Carol for dinner. "I knew you two would get back together! It's fate." Carol informed them. "When will we get to see the nursery?"

Louisa asked for just one rather large change in their future home: that she hire a painter and choose the new colors. He couldn't understand what was wrong with the green that was already there but would have agreed to anything she wanted so long as they were together again.

They planned a quiet wedding with just Aunt Joan, Aunt Ruth (whom Louisa had never met), Chris, Carole, Pauline, Al, Bert and Penhale. "We have to invite him Martin. He's always there for you whenever and where ever needed." Martin gave in and almost ran away when Joe gave every appearance of breaking into tears upon hearing the news.

But the village had other ideas about the reception. Almost everyone chipped in to rent the hall. Large Restaurant organized the food and who would bring what dish. The Crab and Lobster furnished the cider and ale. Chippy Miller reminded everyone that the Doc only drank water and promised to bring a case. Chough's Baker promised a cake. Al would arrange for the dj. All in all, it looked to be a proper celebration for their Louiser. When Martin found out about it, his first thought was to refuse to attend but the look on Louisa's face when she heard about the generosity of her village convinced him to grin – make that grimace – and bear it. Louisa made a point of inviting Mrs. Tishell. She was an important member of the village and shouldn't be left out. She had no idea how deep the Chemist's obsession with Martin ran or how bitter she was about their marriage.

Robert kept Martin informed about his progress with the board and the Truro Hospital. Other members of the board and the head of the hospital also wanted to meet him face to face. Robert came to Truro because he board wanted Martin to assist in some surgeries so they could assess his performance. They did a few with Robert leading but soon Martin was in charge. When operating, his concentration was absolute so he didn't notice all the eyes on him, checking for any failings or discomfort. He passed with flying colors. After that, they wanted the assurances from his therapist and then it was definite.

The wedding took place with the same vicar who was to marry them the first time. He started with, "Barely deloved" earning a scowl from Martin. Martin tried to act as a proper groom but was just too eager and impatient with all the 'claptrap' involved to let the vicar drone on. When it was time to kiss the bride, he looked around the room, clearly hesitant to do something that intimate in front of everyone. Then he looked at Louisa. Never had a kiss been so sweet.

He was determined for Louisa to enjoy the reception and was surprised to see the gifts from various people. There were gifts for the baby: teddy bears and outfits that brought forth the oddest sounds from the women. Martin was puzzled at this behavior but had the good sense to keep quiet. The rest of the men watched in amusement and the women ignored them and continued to enjoy themselves. Aunt Joan brought a blue onsie and Martin marveled that a baby could be that small. The most precious gift to Louisa was a quilt that the village quilt guild made them. It had the jewel toned colors that she associated with Port Wenn – azure blue, soft lilac, aqua, meadow green and soft mauve. Martin appreciated the skilled handiwork of the women and personally thanked them. It was a Martin thank you which consisted of "Yes" but it was enough. They all knew the Doc. They did the obligatory dance and his poor toes! Louisa never took dance lessons and her big stomach threw off her balance. Martin said that he could tell. Gallant Martin!

He had never thought that picking out names would be so difficult. They each wrote lists and looked up popular names. Pauline made suggestions and Joan jokingly said they should name it Phoan, a combination of her's and Phil's names and suitable for either sex. Penhale wistfully suggested Joseph. Finally, they decided to each pick their favorite name and those two would be it. For a son she picked James and he Henry – James Henry it was. For a girl, she picked Ruth and he picked Ann – Ruth Ann. Perfect! He pointed out that names for both genders wouldn't have been necessary if she had just agreed to find out the baby's sex but she smiled and said that a surprise would be more interesting.

She woke him up one night saying the labor pains had started. He had it all planned out, called the midwife and got all the necessary things together. Calm, cool and collected. She asked some questions, he barked out the answers and she was on her way.

Louisa paced the floor letting out nerve racking groans that came more and more frequently, especially after her water broke. Martin was sweating buckets and trying to comfort her. "Pant! You're supposed to pant!" This was hell! How could women go through this? Never again!

Sissy, the midwife knocked on the door and he rushed to answer it, almost pushing her into the consulting room. She had to look twice at him – first time a one of her new fathers had worn a suit and tie!

"Alright, can you get on the table? I want to see how far you're dilated? Hum, this looks fine. Shouldn't be too much longer. You said no pain meds so here we go."

Martin had heartily disapproved of this decision but to no avail. Louisa let out an, to Martin's ear, agonized and long groan and he lost all his good resolutions in a flash. He had seen horrible damage done to human bodies and never turned a hair but this was Louisa. "Is that underlay sterile? Where's your bag? Come on woman, answer me! Do something about her pain! What do you mean she said no drugs. Idiotic! Why did you not have the sense to ignore her? Did you _pay_ people to write your good reviews? What's taking you so long? Gawd!"

Sissy remained calm, used to this kind of panic among the prospective fathers, but Louisa wasn't. "Mar-tin! Stop criticizing! Do you think it will make him come any faster? Do you seriously think you're helping? H-m-m?" Then she looked at his face and saw the terror there. "Martin, I need you to help me. Remember our classes and what you're supposed to do. I need you Martin. Please come here and let me brace myself against you." She said these words through gritted teeth, determined to try and reduce her moans. As anyone who's gone through child birth even with pain meds can tell you, she didn't succeed. But her pleas worked. He calmed down and did his part just fine.

An hour later, he cut the cord and handed her their son. "It's a boy! It's a boy! Oh, we have a son!"

Martin stood, looking at his family in awe, not sure what his next move should be. "Do you want to hold him?" Louisa asked.

"No, no. Better not. He's a baby and I'm not very good with babies. I might hurt him…or do something wrong."

"You could learn." She said, encouragingly.

He reached for that tiny little body with his huge hands and said, "Yes, I could." He held him up to look at the face of his son and his expression was all that Louisa could ever hope for – absolute adoration. "Hello, James Henry."

Sissy smiled at another happy family. She loved her job!

He handed him back and Louisa asked, "Isn't he beautiful?"

"His head's misshapen. The skull contracts and thus is allowed to pass through the birth canal." Said the doctor.

But she had seen the father's face. It was enough.

Sissy made sure that all was ok, packed up her things and left with the thanks of the new parents ringing in her ears. Even Martin thanked her.


	10. Chapter 10

Epilogue

They did have sleepless nights. Louisa worried and reread her books. Martin lectured and quoted studies but, as he had said, phases passed. Before long, the baby slept better and woke less and less often for his bottle.

Shortly after the baby was born, the letter came from the Truro Hospital. Pauline saw it and knew what it meant – the end of the best job she'd ever had. He opened it slowly and there it was, the offer of a post in the surgical department with an employment contract, employee handbook and all the other papers pertaining to the offer. He was to report to personnel in one week for induction. He took it to Louisa and handed it to her without comment. She saw what it was and jumped up to hug him, laughing and crying a little from joy. They embraced for several moments before she pulled back and saw an actual smile on his face. A proud and happy smile! Chris already knew about the letter and called him to offer congratulations and to tell him that his replacement would start in two weeks. Wadebridge would cover his territory until then.

He offered Pauline a job as his secretary but with some stipulations – she would have to dress professionally and attend some classes. Was she willing to do that?

"Sure, Doc. I knew you'd need me and you won't know me when I dress _professionally_!"

"You'll also need reliable transportation. If needed, I'll co-sign your loan for an auto." He offered to her everlasting delight and gratitude. She bought a tiny two-seater – good mileage, easy to park and very affordably priced. Martin nodded in approval.

Martin walked into the operating room and performed as if he'd just been on a week's vacation. Before long, he was head of the surgical department, supervising a team of registrars, teaching and writing again.

They lived at the old surgery for less than six months. The villagers just wouldn't accept that he wasn't their doc anymore. "Evenin' Doc. Just need a refill." "Sorry to bother you but could you look at my arm? It's swollen and tingly." "Please could you take a look at Peter? He's got the runs." "Can you take a look at this mole? Won't take you a minute." And on and on. After being interrupted at least twice a week during dinner by a villager suffering from some complaint, Martin exploded and called an agent. He wanted to move OUT of the village. Louisa convinced him to make it just out of easy walking distance. The new doctor bought their house and set up his surgery there, just like old times.

They found an expertly restored historic home with a good-sized garden for their children to play in and a magnificent view of the ocean. It was a good twenty minutes closer to Truro, too.

Yes, children. James Henry was two years old when they had Ruth Ann. Martin was enchanted with the small, spirited version of Louisa and she was definitely a daddy's girl.

It was his birthday, a day which he had always ignored before he was lucky enough to have a family. Now, there had to be a cake, presents and a party with, fortunately, just Louisa and the children as guests. His presents were things the children made – cards, decorations for his office wall, etc.

He returned home from work and opened the front door to his children jumping out and yelling, "Surprise!" Ruth was four and she ran to meet him saying, "Daddy, daddy I have a surprise for you. It's your birfday present. You must hide your eyes. Come on Daddy. It's a _good_ surprise."

Louisa and James Henry were standing next to the kitchen table watching them. Six-year old James Henry had a huge grin on his face and Ruth was almost dancing with excitement. Martin pulled up a kitchen chair, sat down and said, "I'm ready. What's the surprise?"

"No, no Daddy. Cover your eyes and hold out your hand." Ruth insisted.

Martin dutifully did as she said and she placed a piece of paper in his hand and said, "Now daddy. Look at it now."

He opened eyes and saw a note. No one could ever accuse him of being sentimental but this just might prove them wrong. Her message was written in a four-year old's script, "Dear Daddy, I love you. Ruth Ann

He picked her up for a hug and kiss then asked, "Did you do this yourself?"

"James Hendry helped me. He said he loves you, too. Do you like it Daddy?" She asked with a big smile that showed her baby white teeth.

He reached for James Henry and hugging them both, said, "Yes. You've both done well. Thank you." And Ruth wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

That small piece of paper was carefully put away and treasured for the rest of his life.

Louisa didn't return to teaching until both children were old enough to enroll in Port Wenn Primary and never regretted the time she spent at home with them. She accepted that being a stay at home Mother and caring for their children didn't demean her. It satisfied her longing for a loving, well run home for their children just as much as it did Martin's. He had said that she would be their first and best teacher and he was right.

His fears that he wouldn't be a good father were completely unfounded. Being with the woman and two perfect children that he loved with all his being filled the unhappy void that he had born since he was a child. He was unfailingly kind, gentle and patient with them. Though still frequently rude to others and never suffered fools gladly, he and his family were happy.

The end


	11. Chapter 11

It was early evening so Louisa shouldn't mind a quick call. "Louisa, it's Martin here. I'm on my way back from the symposium and wondered if I could stop by to see you. I should be there in under an hour. Have you eaten?"

"Yes, of course you can and no, I haven't eaten. There were parent-teacher meetings after school so I just got home myself. Have you? No? Would you like to eat with me? You would? Good. I'll buy some fish and fresh veggies. Do you want to cook or shall I?" Laughing softly, she agreed, "Yes, it's definitely better for you to do the cooking! Bye."

He parked at the surgery to pick up a package before making his way to her cottage. People were puzzled by his expression. There was no scowl. Oh, he's on his way to see Louiser. That explains it.

Unaware that he was being observed and discussed, he stopped at the Green Grocers and bought some fresh flowers. He bought them frequently, pleased at her happiness when he gave them to her. "Good choice Doc! Louiser likes fresh flowers. I'm bettin' she ain't got another vase yet. She broke hers yesterday. Wanna buy one here?" The clerk said to his surprise. Why should he be surprised? If someone in the village burped, everyone else knew it and would probably join in!

She was watching and met him at the door. "Thank you, Martin! They're lovely! And the vase is perfect! That looks so nice! What are you doing back? I thought you were staying overnight?"

He kissed her hello and ran his hand over her stomach as if to assure himself that all was well and kissed her again. "I met Robert in reception and talked to him there so had no need to stay longer. And I wanted to see you. Are you feeling alright? You're not over-doing it at the school are you? I don't like it when you work so late."

"I'm fine! These meetings are important and I like doing them. I went to bed early last night, ate a good, nutritious breakfast and a light, healthy lunch. I feel very well. Thank you for worrying about me." Crikey! This was so much nicer than bickering with him.

Enormously pleased by her answer, he showed it by "Harumph." And started the preparations for their meal.

"I bought you an apron. Here, let me tie it." She made it snug around his waist. There wasn't room in her tiny kitchen for two people to work so she set the table and stayed out of his way. Again, his movements were smooth and quick.

"How did your talk with, Robert isn't it, go?" She asked while admiring his smooth motions and masculine physique in that suit. She would never get tired of looking at him!

"Yes, Robert Preston, my old tutor and head of the medical board. Good. I have some news for you but let's wait till after we eat to talk about it." He answered.

She just couldn't help herself and had to ask, "And Edith? Didn't you want to hear her speech?"

"No. I helped her write it so know what she'll say. She's actually going to try to tell a joke! Not a good idea. Are roasted sprouts satisfactory?" His answer was ok but his body language said that he didn't want to talk about Edith and that No was loud and clear. Must have been unpleasant.

She sat quietly, watching him work. He served their plates and poured his cup of hot, hot tea and her a glass of milk. She was too curious to talk about mundane matters and since he never did that anyway, they quickly finished their meal and cleared up the dishes together. It wasn't easy but she stood off to his side and dried the dishes as he handed them to her.

"I know I don't have much seating room here but there's no point in me buying more furniture. The lease on my cottage will be up in about fifteen months and I'll have my own again. Haven't you recognized this sofa? It was in the office at the farm." She asked as they sat down together.

He glanced at it indifferently and blurted out, "Remember those plans I told you about? I asked Robert to transfer me to Truro instead of London. He agrees that their surgical department needs help and will try to make it happen. And, you may be interested to know that Pitts has been asked to leave his post. He evidently has trouble keeping his hands to himself."

If he had suggested that Aunt Joan have a sex change, she couldn't have been more surprised. She sat up straight and stared at him with her mouth open, then sputtered, "Truro? Are you sure? London has been your dream! Where you qualified and became famous! Why Truro?"

He smiled just a little at her expression, then answered, "In order. Yes, yes, yes, yes and because of you and the baby, obviously. Are you pleased?"

"Absolutely I'm pleased! Martin, this is wonderful! Are you going to live in Truro?" The last was asked with growing happiness. He was staying close to them! He would see them most weekends! And most of all, Edith would be in London! Or Timbuktu for all she cared.

"No, I'll commute. It's only an hour's drive. But I still have to convince the board that my phobia is cured. Sam will help with that but I will still have to prove myself to everyone before I can perform surgery unsupervised. I feel confident that it will go smoothly. Just not completed yet." He explained.

"Will you still live in the surgery or move to some place smaller? Joan would love it if you moved in with her!" The last was said with laughter.

"We would drive each other mad! No, I plan on staying where I live now, unless you want to live somewhere else?" He asked hesitantly. God, what if she said no!

It took a few seconds for this to sink in. He could have sworn that at least five minutes went by before she answered. "Martin, I said that you wouldn't make me happy. Well I've been miserable without you, every day, all day. But, will I make you happy? You said that I wouldn't and nothing's changed. You know that I can be messy, need to learn to cook and that I snore. The baby will need a lot of space and things. Dirty nappies, sleepless nights, spit up, toys and noise. Can you live with all those things?" She asked, seriously.

"I'm stubborn, difficult to talk to, rude and generally unfriendly. Can you live with those things? And, I've discovered that your snoring doesn't bother me at all so strike that. Becoming accustomed to living with a child will be difficult for both of us but I can't envision _not_ living with it. Can you? And babies grow out of those stages you know. They don't last forever." He assured her.

"Are you asking me to marry you?"

"Well, yes. What did you think I was doing? Before the baby is born preferably. So?" He was actually nervous about her answer! This blessed, difficult and wonderful man.

"Yes, I'll marry you. And, I'll live at the surgery or anywhere else with you. Even London." But she held her breath, hoping that he would still say Truro.

She wasn't disappointed. "No, I really think we'll be happier here. I want Aunty Joan to know our child and for it to know her. The happiest times of my childhood were spent on the farm with Uncle Phil and her. As to the surgery, if I'm no longer the village GP, we'll add two more large rooms to our living space."

"Oh Martin! I do so love you!" and she scooted close to him. It was difficult for them to embrace but needs must and they worked it out. He shifted her to his lap so had total access to her and the baby.

"Oh yes, you should wear this again." And he handed her the engagement ring again just as he had the first time. She joyfully put it on and he shoved it in place. "This time it stays!" she said firmly.

They called Joan, Martin not wanting to take the chance that she would hear from the mailman again about their re-engagement. Needless to say, she couldn't have been happier for them. They sat up late talking and planning. He wanted to stay that night but her single bed made it too difficult and he thought it too late for her to make the trip to the surgery.

The next day was Saturday so a good time for her to move back to the surgery. He showed up at first light to fix breakfast and to help her start packing. It seemed the way to there was filled with well-wishers yelling congratulations and offers of help. Martin wanted to go by them as fast as possible but kept a sedate pace for Louisa's sake, scowl firmly in place and "Mind your own business!" trembling on his lips.

That night, back in their bed, he held her close, relieved that she was happy and with him again. His hand rested on her stomach and he went to sleep feeling their baby move. He felt that emotion that was rare for him - contentment.

They met with the Midwife and Louisa formed an immediate bond with her. Martin had already checked out her history and found it to be more than satisfactory. She held birthing classes and Louisa had a private and proud giggle at how seriously Martin was taking his duties. He couldn't help but try to instruct her about the proper ways for her to perform her job. When she suggested that he let her sit in on his consultations so that she could instruct him, he snorted but thereafter kept his comments to himself – for the most part anyway. He put her phone number on speed dial.

They went shopping for nursery furniture in Truro and never had baby furniture gone thru such thorough inspections. The sales people were afraid that he would actually sit on the changing table to test its strength! They wrote up the receipt, promised quick delivery and almost pushed them out the door. At one time, Louisa would have blushed and apologized but no more. She just shrugged and was happy that their baby would have such well vetted furniture.

They met Chris and Carol for dinner. "I knew you two would get back together! It's fate." Carol informed them. "When will we get to see the nursery?"

Louisa asked for just one rather large change in their future home: that she hire a painter and choose the new colors. He couldn't understand what was wrong with the green that was already there but would have agreed to anything she wanted so long as they were together again.

They planned a quiet wedding with just Aunt Joan, Aunt Ruth (whom Louisa had never met), Chris, Carole, Pauline, Al, Bert and Penhale. "We have to invite him Martin. He's always there for you whenever and where ever needed." Martin gave in and almost ran away when Joe gave every appearance of breaking into tears upon hearing the news.

But the village had other ideas about the reception. Almost everyone chipped in to rent the hall. Large Restaurant organized the food and who would bring what dish. The Crab and Lobster furnished the cider and ale. Chippy Miller reminded everyone that the Doc only drank water and promised to bring a case. Chough's Baker promised a cake. Al would arrange for the dj. All in all, it looked to be a proper celebration for their Louiser. When Martin found out about it, his first thought was to refuse to attend but the look on Louisa's face when she heard about the generosity of her village convinced him to grin – make that grimace – and bear it. Louisa made a point of inviting Mrs. Tishell. She was an important member of the village and shouldn't be left out. She had no idea how deep the Chemist's obsession with Martin ran or how bitter she was about their marriage.

Robert kept Martin informed about his progress with the board and the Truro Hospital. Other members of the board and the head of the hospital also wanted to meet him face to face. Robert came to Truro because he board wanted Martin to assist in some surgeries so they could assess his performance. They did a few with Robert leading but soon Martin was in charge. When operating, his concentration was absolute so he didn't notice all the eyes on him, checking for any failings or discomfort. He passed with flying colors. After that, they wanted the assurances from his therapist and then it was definite.

The wedding took place with the same vicar who was to marry them the first time. He started with, "Barely deloved" earning a scowl from Martin. Martin tried to act as a proper groom but was just too eager and impatient with all the 'claptrap' involved to let the vicar drone on. When it was time to kiss the bride, he looked around the room, clearly hesitant to do something that intimate in front of everyone. Then he looked at Louisa. Never had a kiss been so sweet.

He was determined for Louisa to enjoy the reception and was surprised to see the gifts from various people. There were gifts for the baby: teddy bears and outfits that brought forth the oddest sounds from the women. Martin was puzzled at this behavior but had the good sense to keep quiet. The rest of the men watched in amusement and the women ignored them and continued to enjoy themselves. Aunt Joan brought a blue onsie and Martin marveled that a baby could be that small. The most precious gift to Louisa was a quilt that the village quilt guild made them. It had the jewel toned colors that she associated with Port Wenn – azure blue, soft lilac, aqua, meadow green and soft mauve. Martin appreciated the skilled handiwork of the women and personally thanked them. It was a Martin thank you which consisted of "Yes" but it was enough. They all knew the Doc. They did the obligatory dance and his poor toes! Louisa never took dance lessons and her big stomach threw off her balance. Martin said that he could tell. Gallant Martin!

He had never thought that picking out names would be so difficult. They each wrote lists and looked up popular names. Pauline made suggestions and Joan jokingly said they should name it Phoan, a combination of her's and Phil's names and suitable for either sex. Penhale wistfully suggested Joseph. Finally, they decided to each pick their favorite name and those two would be it. For a son she picked James and he Henry – James Henry it was. For a girl, she picked Ruth and he picked Ann – Ruth Ann. Perfect! He pointed out that names for both genders wouldn't have been necessary if she had just agreed to find out the baby's sex but she smiled and said that a surprise would be more interesting.

She woke him up one night saying the labor pains had started. He had it all planned out, called the midwife and got all the necessary things together. Calm, cool and collected. She asked some questions, he barked out the answers and she was on her way.

Louisa paced the floor letting out nerve racking groans that came more and more frequently, especially after her water broke. Martin was sweating buckets and trying to comfort her. "Pant! You're supposed to pant!" This was hell! How could women go through this? Never again!

Sissy, the midwife knocked on the door and he rushed to answer it, almost pushing her into the consulting room. She had to look twice at him – first time a one of her new fathers had worn a suit and tie!

"Alright, can you get on the table? I want to see how far you're dilated? Hum, this looks fine. Shouldn't be too much longer. You said no pain meds so here we go."

Martin had heartily disapproved of this decision but to no avail. Louisa let out an, to Martin's ear, agonized and long groan and he lost all his good resolutions in a flash. He had seen horrible damage done to human bodies and never turned a hair but this was Louisa. "Is that underlay sterile? Where's your bag? Come on woman, answer me! Do something about her pain! What do you mean she said no drugs. Idiotic! Why did you not have the sense to ignore her? Did you _pay_ people to write your good reviews? What's taking you so long? Gawd!"

Sissy remained calm, used to this kind of panic among the prospective fathers, but Louisa wasn't. "Mar-tin! Stop criticizing! Do you think it will make him come any faster? Do you seriously think you're helping? H-m-m?" Then she looked at his face and saw the terror there. "Martin, I need you to help me. Remember our classes and what you're supposed to do. I need you Martin. Please come here and let me brace myself against you." She said these words through gritted teeth, determined to try and reduce her moans. As anyone who's gone through child birth even with pain meds can tell you, she didn't succeed. But her pleas worked. He calmed down and did his part just fine.

An hour later, he cut the cord and handed her their son. "It's a boy! It's a boy! Oh, we have a son!"

Martin stood, looking at his family in awe, not sure what his next move should be. "Do you want to hold him?" Louisa asked.

"No, no. Better not. He's a baby and I'm not very good with babies. I might hurt him…or do something wrong."

"You could learn." She said, encouragingly.

He reached for that tiny little body with his huge hands and said, "Yes, I could." He held him up to look at the face of his son and his expression was all that Louisa could ever hope for – absolute adoration. "Hello, James Henry."

Sissy smiled at another happy family. She loved her job!

He handed him back and Louisa asked, "Isn't he beautiful?"

"His head's misshapen. The skull contracts and thus is allowed to pass through the birth canal." Said the doctor.

But she had seen the father's face. It was enough.

Sissy made sure that all was ok, packed up her things and left with the thanks of the new parents ringing in her ears. Even Martin thanked her.


	12. Chapter 12

Epilogue

They did have sleepless nights. Louisa worried and reread her books. Martin lectured and quoted studies but, as he had said, phases passed. Before long, the baby slept better and woke less and less often for his bottle.

Shortly after the baby was born, the letter came from the Truro Hospital. Pauline saw it and knew what it meant – the end of the best job she'd ever had. He opened it slowly and there it was, the offer of a post in the surgical department with an employment contract, employee handbook and all the other papers pertaining to the offer. He was to report to personnel in one week for induction. He took it to Louisa and handed it to her without comment. She saw what it was and jumped up to hug him, laughing and crying a little from joy. They embraced for several moments before she pulled back and saw an actual smile on his face. A proud and happy smile! Chris already knew about the letter and called him to offer congratulations and to tell him that his replacement would start in two weeks. Wadebridge would cover his territory until then.

He offered Pauline a job as his secretary but with some stipulations – she would have to dress professionally and attend some classes. Was she willing to do that?

"Sure, Doc. I knew you'd need me and you won't know me when I dress _professionally_!"

"You'll also need reliable transportation. If needed, I'll co-sign your loan for an auto." He offered to her everlasting delight and gratitude. She bought a tiny two-seater – good mileage, easy to park and very affordably priced. Martin nodded in approval.

Martin walked into the operating room and performed as if he'd just been on a week's vacation. Before long, he was head of the surgical department, supervising a team of registrars, teaching and writing again.

They lived at the old surgery for less than six months. The villagers just wouldn't accept that he wasn't their doc anymore. "Evenin' Doc. Just need a refill." "Sorry to bother you but could you look at my arm? It's swollen and tingly." "Please could you take a look at Peter? He's got the runs." "Can you take a look at this mole? Won't take you a minute." And on and on. After being interrupted at least twice a week during dinner by a villager suffering from some complaint, Martin exploded and called an agent. He wanted to move OUT of the village. Louisa convinced him to make it just out of easy walking distance. The new doctor bought their house and set up his surgery there, just like old times.

They found an expertly restored historic home with a good-sized garden for their children to play in and a magnificent view of the ocean. It was a good twenty minutes closer to Truro, too.

Yes, children. James Henry was two years old when they had Ruth Ann. Martin was enchanted with the small, spirited version of Louisa and she was definitely a daddy's girl.

It was his birthday, a day which he had always ignored before he was lucky enough to have a family. Now, there had to be a cake, presents and a party with, fortunately, just Louisa and the children as guests. His presents were things the children made – cards, decorations for his office wall, etc.

He returned home from work and opened the front door to his children jumping out and yelling, "Surprise!" Ruth was four and she ran to meet him saying, "Daddy, daddy I have a surprise for you. It's your birfday present. You must hide your eyes. Come on Daddy. It's a _good_ surprise."

Louisa and James Henry were standing next to the kitchen table watching them. Six-year old James Henry had a huge grin on his face and Ruth was almost dancing with excitement. Martin pulled up a kitchen chair, sat down and said, "I'm ready. What's the surprise?"

"No, no Daddy. Cover your eyes and hold out your hand." Ruth insisted.

Martin dutifully did as she said and she placed a piece of paper in his hand and said, "Now daddy. Look at it now."

He opened eyes and saw a note. No one could ever accuse him of being sentimental but this just might prove them wrong. Her message was written in a four-year old's script, "Dear Daddy, I love you. Ruth Ann

He picked her up for a hug and kiss then asked, "Did you do this yourself?"

"James Hendry helped me. He said he loves you, too. Do you like it Daddy?" She asked with a big smile that showed her baby white teeth.

He reached for James Henry and hugging them both, said, "Yes. You've both done well. Thank you." And Ruth wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

That small piece of paper was carefully put away and treasured for the rest of his life.

Louisa didn't return to teaching until both children were old enough to enroll in Port Wenn Primary and never regretted the time she spent at home with them. She accepted that being a stay at home Mother and caring for their children didn't demean her. It satisfied her longing for a loving, well run home for their children just as much as it did Martin's. He had said that she would be their first and best teacher and he was right.

His fears that he wouldn't be a good father were completely unfounded. Being with the woman and two perfect children that he loved with all his being filled the unhappy void that he had born since he was a child. He was unfailingly kind, gentle and patient with them. Though still frequently rude to others and never suffered fools gladly, he and his family were happy.

The end


End file.
